


Swordplay and Other Arts

by cassowaryriot



Series: Mastered Arts [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Boiling Rock, M/M, abuse recovery, bad relationship recovery, book three, coping mishaps, relationship exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 52,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassowaryriot/pseuds/cassowaryriot
Summary: After betraying Sokka in the Crystal Catacombs and leading to the Avatar’s perceived death, Prince Zuko is welcomed home with open arms. He is still not at peace, and the slowly budding feelings he began to develop in Ba Sing Se threaten to capsize him as he learns more about his past. A retelling of Book Three, covering emotional literacy, abuse recovery, and maybe doing the right thing for once.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Mastered Arts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980964
Comments: 120
Kudos: 194





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! This is part two in a series, but can probably be read alone if you wanted to. Not beta’d.

life’s little, our heads  
sad. Redeemed and wasting clay  
this chance. Be of use.  
 _— Ravi Shankar, “Lines on a Skull”_

The highest thread count in the Fire Nation could not lull Zuko to sleep. The finest silks couldn’t swaddle him and allow him peaceful dreams. Zuko slept fitfully, and whenever he dreamed, he dreamed he was dirty, caked with dust and sweat, packed onto the ferry like cattle while Jet’s eyes simmered. Other dreams were warm, set in a dowdy apartment while spices saturated the air around him... In another, his fingers held sparking fire against the Water Tribe peasant’s neck, catching his skin and burning him up.

Regardless of the dream, they all shifted and morphed and ended the same, always he was swept to a crystalline chamber. The Avatar jerked violently in the air, lightning making his limbs twitch. Then he would fall like a puppet, empty and dead.

Tonight, Zuko jerked awake as he had for weeks, breathless and sweating. Outside, the moon shown half full. Everything was quiet save for the pounding of his heart, and though he fell backwards and the bed was warm, soft and inviting, it felt wrong.

He knew he wouldn’t sleep.

The prince’s guards were well trained enough to not remark when he left his chambers. Their loyalty was less certain. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if the entire palace knew insomnia plagued him. Cool night walks were his solution, but this night his steps took him outside the palace gardens. He was grateful for the cloak obscuring his figure as he ascended the spiraling steps of the jail.

This gossip the fire nation people may not be so charitable about. When a guard ordered him to halt, the coiled anxiety in his chest ached to be unleashed; it was so easy for him to slam the guard against the wall.

“I'm going in for a visit. You're going to stand guard here, and no one is going to know about this.” How loyal were the fire nation guards to their once banished prince? In the moment, the risk felt worth it.

The spiral steps were claustrophobic, the stones felt as if they would squeeze him dead. Zuko slipped into the cell, and kept his voice as neutral as he could. “Uncle, it's me.”

The old man turned away, and Zuko’s chest squeezed.

“You brought this on yourself, you know.” Without meaning to his voice turned sharp; this wasn’t how he intended for this meeting to go. Yet, now that he’d opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop the flow of vitriol. “We could have returned together. You could have been a hero!”

The old man wouldn’t even _look_ at him. Zuko’s chest felt tighter. “You have no right to judge me, Uncle. I did what I had to do in Ba Sing Se, and you're a fool for not joining me. You're not going to say anything?” Silence spread between them, thick and _purposeful_. The knot in his chest seemed to crack, and in the next moment, Zuko’s fire manifested, burning up a small stool Zuko kicked aside.

“You're a crazy old man! You're crazy! And if you weren't in jail, you'd be sleeping in a gutter!” Scorch marks were left on old stone and Zuko stamped his feet in a tantrum. “You can hate me all you want, but I did what I had to do!” Not once did Zuko see his uncle move, and his thoughts buzzed noisily long after he slammed the door shut.

Instead, he found the right name, readied the coin, and put out a bounty on a maybe living Avatar.

Still, Zuko did not sleep that night.

* * *

Zuko had his own rooms in the palace, a whole set of them. From what he could tell, they’d hardly been touched in the years between his banishment and return. The same reds, the same golds, the same comfortable chair in the receiving chamber. Not that Zuko had any guests to receive. When he was very young, toys had littered this room. As he grew, so did his father’s expectations, and no longer was his mother able to slip him toys and bobbles befitting a child.

“Zuko,” his father had said to his mother, “is not a child. He is an heir to the Fire Nation.”

For all the comforts he had, he could not relax. Which is how he found himself at Mai’s estate, sleep deprived and sullen.

“What?” he asked, attempting to blink away drowsiness. Mai scowled at him.

“I said, are you even paying attention to me?” She turned away, huffing on the balcony that overlooked Caldera City. “But, you already answered the question.”

“Sorry, Mai,” Zuko said. He did feel contrite, he also felt tired, worried. It had been days since he’d slipped into Azula’s room and asked her why she’d allowed Zuko to take the glory for killing the Avatar. There was no way the kid could have survived a bolt of electricity like that, not to the back, not without redirection. But Azula’s words still rattled him. If she wasn’t sure, how could he be sure?

He and Azula had been pitted against each other since their childhood. For years, Zuko had fallen short again and again, making his baby sister the better heir. He could remember her voice from the crystal caverns so vividly. How it’d pitched down, pleading, almost _real_. She’d asked for _his_ help. For the first time, Zuko had thought they were playing the same game, on the same team.

As ever, Azula played her own game. Was he really so _stupid_ to think she considered him a collaborator?

“ _Zuko_.” Mai didn’t yell, she rarely did, but her voice pitched low. Annoyed. “Why did I bother calling down to the kitchens if you aren’t going to eat anything?”

“Sorry, Mai,” Zuko said again, automatically. He straightened where he sat on a cushion, eyes trailing to the platter between them. Glistening dumplings, fresh fruit with spiced salt, small finger foods. Easy to eat, and some of his favorites. “I’m not hungry.”

Beside him, she sighed. “Ok. What is it?”

“What?”

“You’ve been like this since you returned. You… took care of the Avatar. You’ve had an audience with your father. You’re the _crowned prince_. What’s wrong with you?”

“Do you talk to all crowned princes like this?”

The joke fell short, but Mai was surprisingly kind enough to tilt her lips up anyway. “The stupid ones. Now, what is it?”

She wouldn’t drop it. Zuko’s eyes returned to the view of the city. _His_ city. The one he’d grown up watching, knowing he represented it. And eventually, after Lu Ten passed, the city and people and nation he knew he would rule. No, Zuko didn’t know what was wrong, not exactly.

He surprised himself when he spoke, voice low, eyes on the city. “What do you think is wrong with Azula?”

Mai was quiet, and Zuko tensed. Since they were young, Zuko knew there was an affinity between them. Now he knew that Mai… had feelings for him, and in his way, he had felt warm towards her too. He also knew, regardless of the tumultuous aspects of their relationship, that she was Azula’s friend. It was a gamble to ask her this. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mai look at him, then to the city, then behind her, as if she imagined Azula’s eyes and ears everywhere. It wasn’t so grand a fear, the Dai Li could be lurking anywhere.

“I don’t think she feels things the same way that other people do.” Mai’s voice lowered, the natural gravel whispering now.

“Like you?”

“I feel lots of things, Zuko.” Mai snapped, her eyes narrowed. “I think… Azula is different.”

“She feels happiness,” Zuko murmured. “Pride. Anger. But…Do you think she feels love?”

“Where is this coming from?”

“Do you think she cares for us?”

Mai’s long fingers plucked up a piece of fruit. She chewed slowly. “For as long as we’re useful.”

How long would Zuko be useful to her? If the Avatar were alive, if he _could_ be alive, then Zuko was useful for as long as it took until Zuko took the fall for failing to kill the Avatar.

Zuko simmered in his thoughts as he watched the sky turn golden, the waves in the distance picking up the color. Inside, something sparked: _five-seven-five_ , the counts that made up a haiku: _From across the sky, the sun sank over the sea, turning the waves gold._ Even here staring at the sky, he couldn’t stop thinking about —

“Let’s think about other things,” Mai said with a sigh. Her expression clearing as she compartmentalized their conversation. She drifted towards him, her surprisingly soft hand resting on his bicep. She ducked forward, lips pressing to his.

Zuko went rigid, body tense and unyielding. The kiss continued and her tongue licked against his lip. Zuko jerked, and in the next moment, he was up and backwards, halfway off the balcony and back into her receiving room.

“Zuko — what?” Mai’s confusion was palpable. Now uncertain, she half stood, arm reaching out, long sleeve dipping towards the floor. “I thought we were — ”

“I have to go. I have… meetings to prepare for. And I need to — ”

“ _Zuko_.”

Then, a new voice, ice cold but mirthful rang out. “Ah, here are the love birds.” Turning, Zuko saw Azula at Mai’s door. Her painted lips were tightened in a smirk. If Zuko’s chest could clench any more than it was, it would turn lead to diamond.

“I was just leaving.”

“Excellent, I was coming to collect you.”

“I don’t need to be _collected_.”

“Of course not, Zuzu; but still I did so out of the kindness of my heart.”

Was he missing a meeting? Zuko wasn’t aware of any war meetings today or other matters that would concern the fire prince. Again, anxiety coursed through him.

“Fine. I’m coming.”

“Zuko,” Mai’s voice was back to stoic, revealing nothing. The shot of affection he felt for her was palpable. Even when he was an entirely _fucked_ creature, she still wouldn’t betray his failings to Azula. “Will I see you later?”

“Yes. Later. Sorry, Mai — and thank you.”

Earlier, Zuko had walked the short distance to Mai’s estate. Now, he road back with Azula in her palanquin, the fabric of the seats soft and lush. The temperature inside was hot, or perhaps that was just him. “Why did you apologize to Mai, Zuzu? Trouble in paradise?”

“That’s none of your business, Azula.” Zuko hoped his tone was as unyielding as he hoped it to be.

“I care very much about the health and happiness of this family.”

“Sure.” There were only so many games he could play. “What do you need me for?”

Azula checked her nails. “I've heard you've been to visit your uncle in the prison tower.”

“That guard told you, didn’t he?” Zuko snarled.

“No. You did. Just now.”

Played once more, like a wind up monkey-cat. It was nearly impossible to out maneuver her, but it was also normal. It was the normalcy of his childhood and adolescence. And perhaps there was something to be said for the comforts of childhood. Zuko sighed, beaten down. “Okay, you caught me. What is it you want?”

“Actually, nothing. Believe it or not, I'm looking out for you. If people find out you've been to see Uncle, they'll think you're plotting with him. Just be careful, dumdum.”

They both spoke low, but still — “Don’t you worry about being overheard?”

“The men and women under me are _loyal_ , Zuko. I don’t worry.”

Azula felt so self-assured. Had Zuko ever felt that self-assured? He didn’t think so, not when he was young and learning to firebend, not when he was learning war games. That sense of peace had long left him, along with the woman who made him feel safe.

Now here, at the palace, he only had Azula.

* * *

The next time Zuko visited the prisons, he tried a new approach. The dish was hot in his hands, and he meant to take things slow, to wait for his uncle to speak, but once his mouth opened, he couldn't stop speaking. “I brought you dinner. I don’t know what the head chef thought when I ordered him to leave the kitchens, but — it’s… something. Not as good as before, I haven’t had much time to practice, but I figure it beats prison food.” Zuko took a deep sigh, filling his lungs. Uncle did not speak. “And… I’ll admit it, I have everything I always wanted, but it's not at all how I thought it would be.”

Zuko didn’t know what he needed to do, he didn't know what he _should_ do. He took a deep steadying breath and set the hot dish of noodles outside the cell. Then, he gripped one of the prison bars tightly. “The truth is, I need your advice. I think the Avatar is still alive, in fact, I feel like I know he's out there. I'm losing my mind.”

Nothing. Zuko remembered being younger, his wound still fresh and uncle at his side, the sea breeze their companion. Uncle had promised to help him in his search, he’d promised to help _him_. “Please, Uncle, I'm so confused. I need your help.”

If Iroh were to speak, Zuko could imagine what his voice would sound like. Deep, wizened, words chosen carefully, thoughtfully. The advice could be vague or buried in a tea metaphor, but the sound of his voice would ground Zuko, it would be his compass.

Nothing. Fire lit deep in Zuko’s belly. It stayed internal, but when he spoke, his voice was volcanic: “Forget it, I'll solve it myself! Waste away in here for all I care!”

Iroh said nothing when Zuko slammed the door of the cell, and the night air offered no insights. His room was quiet, temperate, and peaceful, but Zuko found no peace.

* * *

Zuko took to his duties in a haze; while there was little to fill his days with at the moment, his excuses for why he couldn’t spend time with Mai were rich. He almost got away with it too, until the whole lot of them were packaged up for Ember Island. Still, there wasn’t much time to spend one-on-one, it wouldn’t be polite to Ty Lee, and, more importantly, Azula might take offense if she were not included.

It was chaos immediately, almost funny that the other beach goers didn’t know who they were, didn’t _care_ who they were. It was painful to watch Azula try to navigate regular teenagers, but truthfully, Zuko had no better experience with it. The most interaction he’d had with his _peer group_ was chasing down the Avatar, the debacle with Jet, and then…

It wasn’t very good.

“Zuko.” Mai appeared at his side. Her face betrayed nothing. “Can I talk to you?”

“Mai… we’re at a party. Wouldn’t it be rude to… uh, do that?” Smooth.

Pointedly, Mai looked to the side where two others were locked in conversation, if conversation meant mouth to mouth.

“Point taken.”

With growing trepidation, Zuko followed Mai to the party’s balcony. Surprisingly they were alone, and Zuko mentally took stock of where Ty Lee was, and, more importantly, where Azula was.

Not nearby.

Mai looked at him stonily. “Are we dating?”

She’d wasted no time. Zuko blanched. “I don’t — I don’t know.”

“It’s not that hard a question. Do you _want_ to be dating?”

“I — well.” Zuko’s mind painfully tried to come up with something to say, but nothing helpful arrived. He couldn’t say no, because: “Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Mai blinked at him as if he were stupid. “Of course it does. Eventually, you’ll need a wife of some sort, and… I’ve always liked you.”

“Oh.”

“Do you like me?”

“Mai, it’s not that I don’t, it’s — ”

“No. Do you like me?”

She really deserved better. Zuko felt pinned like a bug on a board, but it was almost a relief to finally tell her. “Maybe not like that, but I care for you. Deeply.”

A quick flash of pain pulsed over Mai’s features, then it was locked away behind her stoic eyes. “I see. I…” she faltered, Zuko felt himself falter, “always thought…”

“I did too,” he admitted.

“Is it someone else? Did you meet someone?”

Zuko wasn’t prepared for this line of questioning, no doubt why he stupidly said, “Well — ”

“I see. Who is she?”

Even stupider: “Well it’s not a — you see, they…”

Nothing in Mai’s expression revealed any of her thoughts. The woman would destroy a Pai Sho circuit if she put her mind to it. Instead, her hand snapped out to grab his wrist, and she pulled him down the steps towards the private beach of the house. Further along, a couple laid in the sand together. They took a different route.

Mai didn’t drop his hand, but she didn’t look at him either. “Do you like women? At all?”

Straight forward again. To the point. Zuko’s heels dug into the dirt, but she tugged him along, further away from the house, away from Azula. When he spoke, it felt choked. “Not really. Maybe a little. But I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Well, I guess that makes _me_ feel better,” she said, voice nearly wistful.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“You don’t look like you feel better,” he offered. His own voice still sounded off to him, alien and strange and vulnerable and chapped.

“Well, even if it makes _me_ feel a bit better...” worry cut into her usually unaffected voice, “what are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are you going to do? You’re our nation's prince. You need a wife and an _heir_.”

It was if she’d played a particularly clever pai sho piece and suddenly the entire board appeared different. Not in his favor. Zuko saw his entire life behind him and before him, and there was nothing good there. For so long, he’d been focused on few things: his honor, his title, his people, his throne. Proving himself. Even after Ba Sing Se, Zuko hadn’t really _thought_ about what he’d done. What it had meant.

“Nothing,” he said defensively, panicking. “I’ll do nothing.”

Now they stopped, many paces from the house and alone. The waves would wash out their voices if anyone were near, and to the unsure passerby they appeared like young lovers. When Mai turned to him, her eyes were sad. “Zuko, your father…”

The heir, the spares. They were needed, weren’t they? His father would say so, after what happened to Lu Ten and Iroh’s spirit afterwards. Zuko and Azula _had_ been the spares. He swallowed. “I’m sure he’ll find me a wife, and I…” How had he never thought of this before? Of a future? “I had never really thought of heirs. I… I do _want_ heirs I think. Children.”

Children were more than just heirs.

“Will you be happy?”

Mai. Sullen, depressed Mai — that was what Azula called her behind her back and sometimes to her face. Zuko twisted his hand, but instead of pulling away from Mai’s grip, he slipped his hand into hers. “Isn’t honor more important than happiness?”

It was in the Fire Nation. That she seemed to understand far too well. The walk back was quiet save for the waves, and when they returned it was to wanton party destruction. They didn’t talk any more of it, save for Mai pressing up against his side later when they sat by a bonfire. She whispered, “Pretend for now, so Azula won’t know.”

Zuko was more grateful to her than he could express.

Azula didn’t seem to notice, and for a brief moment on the beach, Zuko thought he really _saw_ Azula. Understood something about her. _My own mother thought I was a monster,_ she said. Then the reflection was gone in a flash.

_She was right of course, but it still hurt._

* * *

For weeks Zuko had chalked his poor sleep up to assassins in the night. The longer it went on, the more he privately wondered if he was going mad. It wasn’t unusual for him to snap awake in the night, it wasn’t unusual for him to see attackers where they weren’t.

Imagine his surprise when he _did_ see a figure flit down the hall. Before he could follow, he noticed his lack of guards and the scroll laying on the floor.

_You need to know the story of your great-grandfather's demise. It will reveal your own destiny._

Zuko had been told, primarily by Azula, that he was not good at puzzles. What he lacked for in smarts he didn’t make up for in patience, and really, she _did_ seem to be right about that. Zuko rarely came up with the same conclusions at the war table, and the last time he tried to work out his own way to win, one that wouldn’t sacrifice hundreds of Fire Nation soldiers, he grievously offended his father. Then he paid the price.

On his own though, without outside pressures, Zuko didn’t mind puzzles at all. It’s unfortunate then that he was currently plagued by a million outside influences. The threat of the Avatar being alive, of his assassin not completing the job, of his father, of Azula. Zuko’s frustrations aided him for once though, and when he tossed the letter in frustration it nearly burned on a lamp, instead displaying a new message when it hit heat.

_The Fire Sages keep the secret history in the Dragonbone Catacombs._

Zuko tore through his great grandfather’s history, learning new details about the Avatar’s predecessor Roku. He learned right from his great grandfather’s hand why he felt he needed to expand his affluence and positive influence to the other nations.

And he _understood_. He understood because that was what he’d always been taught. The supremacy of the Fire Nation, mismanagement in the Earth Kingdom, about the Water Tribes’ inability to take care of themselves in their frosty environments. He had long ago learned all of this, already knew all of it.

Zuko also felt hollow. When he was a boy, he’d known nothing of the world. Now, he had seen first hand the trials in the Earth Kingdom, and he knew now how often those issues stemmed from the hands of Fire Nation soldiers. Zuko knew the sprawling and impressive cityscape of the Northern Water Tribe, he’d _broken into it._ Zuko knew it bore no marks of needing aid.

War made men and women savage. Fire Lord Sozin had brought on the war.

Zuko threw the last scroll to the side, feeling sick, but ignoring his own thoughts valiantly. When he could find no other installment, his feet marched him from the chambers, across the grounds to familiar stone. He ignored guards as he walked, and when he entered his uncle’s prison cell he was quivering with anger.

“You sent this, didn't you? Was it just to get in my head? I found the secret history, which should be renamed _history most people already know._ The note said that I needed to know about my great-grandfather's death, but he was still alive in the end.”

“No, he wasn't.”

Zuko’s mouth was already open to argue, but it snapped shut. He was shocked to hear his uncle’s voice, it had been so long. “What are you talking about? I didn’t find another scroll.”

“You have more than one great-grandfather, Prince Zuko. Sozin was your father's grandfather.”

“I — well, of course,” Zuko said, bewildered. Of course his mother had parents, had come from some place. A sense of dread seeped over him. Not once could he remember her speaking of his grandparents or his great grandparents. He was Fire Lord Ozai’s son, that was all.

Iroh’s words cut off any arguments, decisively, “Your mother's grandfather was Avatar Roku.”

Zuko realized his hands trembled. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself.” Zuko’s legs felt weak, he lowered himself as his hands rose to cover his mouth. “Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko. It is your nature, your legacy. But, there is a bright side. What happened generations ago can be resolved now, by you. Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all the strife, is the power to restore balance to the world.”

It seemed like it had been ages, seasons since he’d heard the calming gravel of his uncle’s voice. The words cut though, deep into something Zuko didn’t know was within him. Something that had always been there, but he had been too stupid to see.

Iroh stood and drew a brick from the cell wall. He did not look like a prisoner, he looked like the blood of the Fire Nation. Slowly, he unwrapped the bundle he’d withdrawn. Gold glinted in the cell, and Zuko’s mouth went dry when he saw the once-lost headdress that Sozin had gifted to Avatar Roku.

“This is a royal artifact. It's supposed to be worn by the crown prince.”

Zuko stood to meet Iroh, hands shaking as they reached for the headdress. The metal was cold and familiar, to his soul perhaps.

“Uncle,” Zuko said, eyes rising from the metal to his uncle’s serious eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, my prince. You do.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Sokka was very young, he thought he’d hated the Fire Nation. His father, Bato, and the men and women of his tribe had told him of the horrors the rogue nation had delivered upon their people. They’d told him of the once rich and expansive tribes of the south. Sokka knew he’d had less because of the Fire Nation, knew his people had suffered because of them. In Sokka’s young mind, he’d thought he’d hated them, but he’d only hated in the way a young child hated fermented fish cakes or a parent cutting short playtime. 

It wasn’t until the raid that Sokka truly learned to hate. 

And hate he did. Since then, Sokka has been consumed and fueled by this rage. He channeled this energy into his warrior training, into protecting Katara, and then into the plans for Day of Black Sun. 

It was a shame then, what a disaster the invasion was. They were back to the drawing board, worse off than before, and Sokka felt terrible. His father was taken prisoner, amongst other huge losses. All the planning in the world couldn’t save them. 

“Still moping?” The earth bending champion wasn’t often a ‘twinkle-toes’ herself. Regardless, she’d snuck up on him. She could be sneaky when she wanted to. 

“I’m not moping.”

“You know, I can tell when you’re lying.” 

“I think we should put a stop on you using that on _us_.”

“Can’t help it,” Toph said as she flopped on the ground beside him. “I’m just this good.” 

Sokka sighed where he laid on the tile ground of the Air Nomad garden. It was torn up and overgrown, and a trek from the fountain where Team Avatar was sleeping. Perfect for Sokka’s moping, or what he was _actually_ here to do. “I’m _not_ moping. I’m training.” 

“Sure looks like, Chief.”

“ _Don’t_ call me that.” 

Toph didn’t apologize, but she did stay quiet an extra beat. Which was basically the same thing for her. “So what are you training for? Most uncomfortable sleep?” 

Sokka’s hand rose, he gestured towards space sword lying beside him. “Drills from my master.” 

“Sure is effective alone. Why don’t you ask one of the boys for help? They’ve got nothing to do but _race around the temple_.” 

“Drills are repetition, which _steadies the mind._ ” He was quoting Piandao there. He found that, no, his mind wasn’t steadied at all. “I don’t want company.”

“Yeah?” Toph said, “Want me to head out, Snoozles?”

“No.” He didn’t. Sighing, he reached up to scratch at his neck, pausing uncomfortably when his hand agitated the healed skin there. If he thought too much of the healing scar, of how he’d received it, he —

Toph, at least, didn’t notice such a minute physical movement. 

“Want me to throw rocks at you?” 

“No — actually. Wait, _yes_.”

“Really?” Toph’s tone brightened. “Let’s go!” 

It wasn’t the swordfighting he’d practiced with Piandao, but he wouldn’t always be fighting other swordsmen. There were firebenders, occasionally other benders he needed to maneuver around. Toph tossed, lobbied and rocketed rocks towards him. Some he cut out of the air with his blade, others he dodged, others beat him half to hell. By the end of the hour, Sokka was heaving on his back, exhausted and covered in dust, but also blessedly tired, brain blessedly quiet. For a moment at least, he wasn’t thinking of the invasion, of his many failures. 

“Feel better, kid?”

“You’re like _five years old_ , Toph.” 

She slapped the ground, sending a wave of tiles to jostle Sokka, but they both snickered. “Yeah. Thanks. I just…”

Toph waited, her blind gaze pointed towards the ceiling. 

“It was my moment of truth, you know?”

“No?” 

“My moment of truth. First I thought it was in the planning, in the leading and prepping and public speaking, but it wasn’t. So then I thought it was on the battlefield. And that… well you were there, Toph. I let my dad down, my people, you and Aang. I’m supposed to be the _man with a plan_. If I don’t have a plan, a good one, then what use am I?”

“Relax, Sokka.” It wasn’t often that Toph used his actual name. “You’ll come up with another one. It’s not like Aang’s going to.”

“Yeah, but my plans? They’re _no good_. Maybe someone else should take a shot.” 

Toph didn’t turn to him, but her hand spread out, gesturing vividly. “Yeah, one out of a bunch that _have_ worked, you _nitwit_. Saddle up, there’s always going to be disappointments, but we need _you_. If you need a moment of truth, make one. It’s coming.” 

Sokka’s voice felt thin when he spoke. “How can you say that? What if I fuck it all up again?” 

“We’re in this together. Now come on. We need _your_ help convincing the Avatar to accept a new plan. And then we need you to come up with a new plan.” 

* * *

The best plan was the first plan, the original plan, the plan that made sense, which was basically foretold. Aang would face the Fire Lord as a master of all four elements while they got him where he needed to be, while they took care of the Fire Lord’s forces. 

The plan sucked. Sokka didn’t want to be the one to tell the poor kid, but he did anyway. Now at least, Katara would be the one to chase him down and corner him. She sounded exasperated when they finally cornered Aang, a moment away from air gliding away. “Aang, can we talk about you learning firebending now?”

Aang did an air flip. Sokka stepped in, “Aang, I think we should be making some plans about our future!” Even if they couldn’t hunt down Jeong Jeong, they needed to do _something_. 

“Okay!” Aang chirped. “We can do that while I show you the giant Pai Sho table! Oh, you're gonna love the all-day echo chamber!”

Behind Sokka, Toph cleared her throat. “I think that'll have to wait.”

Sokka waited for her to elaborate, but she only pointed behind her towards Appa. The sky bison had nothing to say, but as he slowly lumbered away, he revealed a figure. 

“Hello,” the prince of the Fire Nation said. “Zuko here.” His hand rose in the faux facsimile of a greeting. 

Sokka gripped his boomerang tight, and then his muscles were moving, flinging the piece of bone through the air. The prince ducked as the boomerang arched before landing back in Sokka’s waiting hand. Beside him, Katara, Toph, and even Aang had taken bending stances. 

“Ok, I deserved that,” Zuko said, slowly rising up. His hands were held out placating. Sokka felt sick. “So, uh, I heard you guys flying around, so, I just thought I'd wait for you here.” Beside Zuko, Appa grumbled. He lumbered closer, and Sokka waited for him to bite the bastard’s leg clean off. Instead, the giant furry beast _licked_ him. “I know you must be surprised to see me here.”

“Not really,” Sokka spat. “You’ve followed us everywhere else, why not to a remote Air Nomad Temple, which _your people_ emptied.” The staff Aang had lowered at Appa’s show of confidence rose back up.

“Right. Well... yes...” the idiot faltered. “What I wanted to tell you is that I've changed, and I... I'm good now, and, well, I think I should join your group. Oh, and I can teach firebending to you. See, I…”

“You want to what now?” Toph asked 

“Why,” Sokka snarled, “would you possibly think we would trust you? Do you think we’re stupid?”

Zuko grimaced, expression nervous. “No, I don’t — ”

“All you’ve _ever_ done is hunt us down, try to capture Aang, _steal our belongings_ — !” There was more Katara could rattle off, but fury stifled her rant. 

“I’ve done some good things! I mean, I could have stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free. That's something!”

“Appa,” Toph said, “does seem to like him.”

“What did you do?” Sokka gestured rudely with his boomerang. “Cover yourself with honey? Think you could trick us by making Appa like you? 

“I can understand why you wouldn't trust me, you especially. And I know I've made some mistakes in the past.”

Sokka saw red. _You especially_. How dare he say such a thing? In front of his friends? After Azula’s attack in the catacombs, there had been no time to talk, only time to act. Katara needed to utilize her life-saving spirit oasis water and Sokka needed to make sure they got to safety, that they made contact with the Water Tribe Warriors. That there was a chance for tomorrow. 

That didn’t mean that Katara didn’t find him later, that she didn’t ask him what had happened in the catacombs. Sokka hadn’t been able to speak about it. He’d felt so _stupid_ ; he could never admit to his sister that he’d found Zuko weeks before the catacombs and never raised the alarm. 

Maybe if he did, Aang wouldn’t have died. 

No, instead he’d gotten short with her, perhaps broken something. Katara had given him a wide berth since then, though the overbearing looks she shot him were hard to ignore. 

_You especially_ , Zuko had said. To his face, in front of his friends. Sokka seethed. 

“Like when you — ” he cut himself off, almost revealing too much. But it was hard to bottle up the anger, to cap the hurt and embarrassment. “Like when you attacked our village?”

Katara was on his side. “Or when you stole my mother's necklace and used it to track us down and capture us?” 

“Look, I admit I've terrible things. I was wrong to try to capture you, and I'm sorry that I attacked the Water Tribe. And I never should have sent that Fire Nation assassin after you. I'm going to try and stop —”

“Hold up. _Back up_ ,” Sokka snarled. “ _You_ sent Combustion Man after us?”

Zuko’s voice faltered. “Well, that's not his name, but — ”

“Wow! Sorry! I didn't mean to insult your friend!”

“He's not my friend!” Zuko’s anger flared, and seeing it at least cheered Sokka. He couldn’t stand the false contrite look that Zuko had plastered on his face. 

“That assassin locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up!” 

Zuko gaped at Toph like a fish. Then he turned to Aang. “What about you? Why aren't you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.”

Unlike Zuko, Aang _did_ have friends. When Aang looked to him, Sokka met his gaze, shaking his head sharply. The young Avatar took a deep breath before turning back to Zuko. “There's no way we can trust you after everything you've done. We can never let you join us.”

“That’s right, buddy,” Sokka said icily. 

“You need to get out of here. Now.” Katara had steel in her voice. 

“I'm trying to explain that I'm not that person anymore!”

Sokka’s boomerang was in one hand, the other hand drew his sword. There was no sword school that catered to wielding a boomerang-sword combo, but Sokka could start that school. Now. He stalked halfway towards Zuko before forcing himself to a halt. The realization came sharp: He wouldn’t be able to stop himself if he moved any closer. Aang and the others didn’t need to see that. “Leave. Either you leave, or I take your head off.” 

“ _Sokka_ — ” Katara said behind him, surprised, while Toph barked a laugh, also surprised. 

Zuko’s eyes flashed; Sokka couldn’t read the expression. Not that it mattered. “If you won't accept me as a friend, then maybe you'll take me as a prisoner.” Zuko stepped forward, just a few paces from Sokka. He lowered slowly to his knees and Sokka’s mouth went dry. He bent his head, raised his arms in surrender. 

It wasn’t the first time Zuko had kneeled before him, Sokka thought viciously. That was a world away, in a small apartment in Ba Sing Se when Sokka had made mistake after mistake and thought a boy with a sob story was someone to be trusted. 

Why not? Why not take him prisoner? The Western Air Temple may not have had a prison block, but they could make one. Toph could earth bend a prison for him, could metal bend him a cage he could never squirm out of. Why _not_? Why not when the Fire Nation imprisoned so many?

Because Zuko wanted them to, and Sokka wouldn’t give him _anything_ he wanted. 

Before Sokka could move forward, weapons drawn, he felt a hand on his bicep. Katara darted to his side, water snapping out from her hand and pushing Zuko back. “No, we _won’t,”_ she snapped. “Get out of here, and don't come back! And if we ever see you again…”

Sokka found his voice. “We better not see you again.” 

Zuko retreated, but Katara’s hand never left his arm, still holding tight. When the Fire Nation prince was long gone, Katara broke the silence, still beside him. “Why would he try to fool us like that?”

“Obviously he wants to lead us into some kind of trap.” 

“Sokka.” Katara’s voice pitched low. Not low enough to be inaudible to Aang and Toph, but low enough for him to know that... she knew something was wrong. She knew something was wrong, and that wasn’t good. 

“It’s nothing. He hunted us, Katara.”

“Yeah. I know that better than anyone. But, Sokka… you aren’t…” What? A killer. Sokka’s eyes were on the space Zuko had occupied, the space he’d _kneeled_ in. A muscle in Sokka’s jaw twitched. 

“Sokka…” Katara said, pressing. 

He realized he was vibrating with pent up energy. It was hard to speak without his voice rising to vitriolic levels. “This is — it’s just like when we were in prison together in those caverns. He starts talking about his mother, his dad, pretending like he had real fucking _feelings._ It’s all bullshit.” 

Katara didn’t even critique his language, and her hand didn’t leave him. He knew she knew something was wrong. “He wanted to get your guard down.”

“And it worked. I did _feel_ sorry for him. I thought he was confused, and hurt, and that he knew Azula and his father were full-of-shit psychopaths, and then — and he made his choice. We paid the price. _Aang_ paid the price.” Katara may have known something went unsaid, but at his words she met his eyes and nodded. “We can’t trust him.” 

Aang’s voice broke in, tentative. “I... kind of have a confession to make. Remember when you two were sick and I got captured by Zhao?”

“Yeah,” Sokka’s voice was flat. “You made us suck on frozen frogs.” 

“When Zhao had me chained up, it was Zuko who came in and got me out. He risked his life to save me.”

“Yeah, so he could capture you himself!”

“Sokka’s right,” Katara said, “you’re only a prize to him.”

“You're probably right.”

“Why would he bother lying about Appa though?” Katara mused. “How bizarre.” 

“Actually, he wasn't lying.” Toph’s head was tilted as she spoke thoughtfully. 

“Hooray!” Sokka spat. “In a lifetime of evil, at least he didn't add animal cruelty to the list.”

“I'm just saying that, considering his messed-up family and how he was raised, he could have turned out a lot worse.”

Katara spoke before Sokka could explode on the spot. “You're right, Toph! Let's go find him and give him a medal. The ‘not as much of a jerk as you could have been’ award!”

“All I know is that while he was talking to us, he was sincere. Maybe you're all just letting your hurt feelings keep you from thinking clearly.”

“A messed-up, asshole family spat out a messed-up, asshole kid, Toph.” Sokka finally had enough control to at least sheath his sword. “He _did_ turn out worse than you think, don’t be taken in by his sob stories.”

“Why would you even _try_ to defend him?” Katara asked. 

Toph stamped her foot, hands on her hips. “Because Katara, you're all ignoring one crucial fact.” Reaching out, she poked Aang’s chest. “Aang needs a firebending teacher! We can't think of a single person in the world to do the job! Now one shows up on a silver platter, and you won't even think about it?”

“I'm not having Zuko as my teacher!”

“You're damn right you're not,” Sokka said. 

Toph turned away, frustration in every fiber of her little being. “I'm beginning to wonder who's really the blind one around here.”

* * *

Sokka didn’t see the Blind Bandit for the rest of the evening, which — good riddance. Why did Toph have to go around cheering Sokka up, asking for his ideas, his plans, only to try and let Zuko train Aang? Didn’t she know he was a conniving liar, who would say anything to get close to a mark? Not really, but _Sokka knew_. If they let Zuko train Aang, he would be missing by morning, tied up and halfway to the Fire Nation. Or worse — burnt to a crisp, this time ended for good. 

One member of Fire Nation royalty had already “killed” Aang. The other one didn’t need to finish the job. 

But if he was ignoring Toph and Toph was ignoring him, then he had no one to throw rocks at him. He could ask Haru, but he didn’t want to spend time with _Haru_. Instead, Sokka dedicated himself to katas and sword drills. Repetition to _quiet the mind_. His mind never managed it.

“Sokka, dinner’s almost ready.” When Katara found him, he was drenched in sweat, sword still singing in the air. 

“Thanks, Katara.” 

“Can you stop swinging that? For like a _minute_.” 

“Sure, Katara,” he whined sarcastically. 

Katara did not look amused. She’d grown so much from the little girl whose loops he used to tug. She’d done much of it herself, after dad left, helping gran and stepping into a role they’d needed. No, that _he’d_ needed. He’d been too obtuse to see past what ‘his’ job was or what ‘her’ job was. Had he been so pigheaded he couldn’t even get water boiling for her when she needed help in the kitchen? Had he been so useless he couldn’t have helped beat and launder clothing?

He had been too busy training without a master, on his own in the snow with his boomerang, pretending to play warrior. It hadn’t meant anything when the Fire Nation came, when _Zuko_ came. 

“Sorry, Katara.” 

Her face softened. “Sokka, what’s wrong?” 

He stiffened. “What do you mean?” 

“Sokka… I hate Zuko as much as anyone. I can’t forgive him for what he did with my mother’s necklace, what he did to _Aang_. If I hadn’t had the spirit oasis water… I know just as well as anyone that Aang would be dead. Azula might have shot the lightning, but if it hadn’t been for Zuko… we _had_ her.”

“Exactly. He sucks. He’s lucky we didn’t throw him off this mountain.” 

“Well, _yeah_. But, Sokka…” Katara’s voice was tentative. “You’re not a killer.”

“Well... not yet.” Sokka shifted uncomfortably. “Katara, I am a warrior. You can splash people around from ten feet away. I have a _sword_ and a boomerang that can kill and take down an elk-roo.” 

“I do more than _splash_ — ”

“I know you do. That’s the sound of me being jealous.” 

“Sokka…”

“Not now.” 

Katara breathed out her nose. Sokka imagined she looked like their mother, which wasn’t hard. If he couldn’t remember what her face looked like, then it was easy to imagine it looked a lot like Katara’s. “Sokka. I know we’re at war, and sacrifices may need to be made. We can’t just tie up every soldier we come across. But, you’re not a _killer_.”

“What do you mean?” 

Katara was silent for a moment, then when she spoke it was careful. “You were so angry with him. You _wanted_ to kill him. What did he do to you?” 

Sokka felt warm, suddenly, like a firebender was cooking him from the inside out. “Nothing.”

“Did he say something to you in the caverns?”

“Katara — ”

“Did he hurt you?” 

“Katara!” Sokka’s heart was racing. He’d told no one of Ba Sing Se, because then he would have to admit that he’d kept it all a secret. Had he told them earlier that Zuko was lurking in the gutters waiting to pounce, they could have stopped him earlier. He never would have come to Azula’s aid. Aang would never have been fried. If Sokka had thought with his brain instead of with his dick — no one would have been hurt, including _him_. “It’s _nothing_. I just can’t stand the guy. It’s the Aang thing, ok? He almost killed him. Our hope for a better future, and _our friend_. That’s it.”

Katara didn’t believe him, he could tell too well that she thought he was full of shit. But she shook her head and turned. “Wash up before dinner. You smell like an ostrich-horse.” 

* * *

“You _what?”_ Aang said. “Wait no, Zuko did _what_ to you?” As if he had forgotten first hand what the Fire Nation was capable of. 

“He kinda… burnt my feet,” Toph said weakly, but the tension in her shoulders lessened when Katara’s healing water circled her blistered flesh. “I thought he could be helpful to us, and if _you_ weren’t all there yelling, that maybe _I_ could work something out with him.”

“Great,” Sokka said, “just great. And he attacked you? I _told_ you, Toph.” 

“Well, he did and he didn’t! It was sort of an accident.” 

“Zuko doesn’t get to make _mistakes_ when it comes to firebending. To _hurting you_. I told you, Toph!”

Beside him, even Aang seemed to agree. “He firebended at you?” 

Toph sighed. “Yes.”

“You see? You trust him, you get burned.” Sokka gestured towards her feet. “Literally.” 

Katara sighed, her water funneling back into her water pouch. “It's gonna take a while for your feet to get better. I wish I could have worked on them sooner.”

“Yeah, me too,” Toph groused. 

Sokka was sick of being proven right. “Zuko is too dangerous to be left alone. We're gonna have to go after him.”

“I hate to go looking for a fight,” Aang said, “but you're right. After what he did to Toph, I don't think we have a choice.”

“He's crafty, but we'll find a way to capture him.”

Together, Sokka and Aang helped Toph up and lifted her. She scoffed. “Maybe just invite him back here. He's already offered himself up as a prisoner once.”

“Not bad, Toph. We tell him we’re going to capture him. Then — we _actually_ make him our prisoner and throw away the key.”

“Gee, Sokka,” Katara mumbled, “You’re a master of surprise.”

Maybe not. But now, whether he liked it or not, Sokka knew Zuko better than any of the others. He knew he thought them weak-willed, stupid, too goodhearted to keep him prisoner. So it _would_ be a trick,wouldn’t it? Treating Zuko how he would treat them if given the chance? 

Sokka and Aang helped Toph to the large fountain in the center of the courtyard, and she sighed as the cool water washed over her feet. “Careful everyone, boil your water before drinking it.” Sokka joked. “It’s contaminated.”

Toph was still in pain, but she grinned at him anyway, wiggling her toes under the water. Still, wiggling them made her wince. “That’s the stuff. Now I know how the rest of you guys feel. Not being able to see with your feet stinks.” 

To the side, Sokka leaned over to Aang. “Let’s go. The sooner the better, before he moves his camp. What do you think — do we bring Haru?” 

“Earthbending could help,” Aang admitted. His expression still conflicted. 

“We need to stop him, Aang.” 

“Yeah, but — I’m the Avatar. I don’t take _prisoners_.” 

“So what, you want to go tell him politely to fuck off?” 

At his language, the young monk gaped and Sokka shook his head. “I don’t need a lecture, but we need to take this seriously. Zuko is a threat, and — ” 

That’s when the explosions happened. 

For a moment, the world sounded crystal clear, then around them the stone of the monastery shook. Sokka knew that sound, they _all_ knew that sound. Combustion Man. “ _Oh great._ ”

Sokka ran to Toph as Aang grabbed her other arm. They needed to move _fast_ , ready Appa and get _out_ of here. Sokka stopped in his tracks when he heard a voice ring out over the ridge. 

“Stop!” It was Zuko. “I don't want you hunting the Avatar anymore! The mission is _off_ , I’m ordering you to stop!”

Sokka turned towards the noise, then spotted the two figures across the chasm on another Air Nomad installation. In comparison to Combustion Man, Zuko looked so small. His hands were up in front of the silent man, pleading. His attack dog didn’t care, only threw him aside, sights set on Aang once more. 

“If you keep attacking, I won’t pay you!” Zuko may not have been as ruthless as his sister, they may have evaded him and his attacks for months, but Zuko was still a firebender. Still, against Combustion Man, his jabs and fiery sweeps did nothing. The man grabbed Zuko, lifting him. “I’ll pay you double to stop!” 

Combustion Man threw him away like litter. He sent more shots towards Aang, but they’d already taken cover behind a wall. There was only so much they could do, especially when Toph couldn’t earth bend them a new way out. The only way out was on Appa. The only way out was on Appa in the line of fire. 

Sokka looked around the corner of the wall he was hidden behind, trying to figure out how best to attack. Aang and Katara could only do so much this pinned down. Again, he watched Zuko attack Combustion Man. Again he was thrown aside. 

  
Except, this time, Combustion Man fired at close range. Sokka nearly yelled when the shot was fired, and though Zuko summoned flames to guard him, he flew over the edge. Sokka couldn’t see him any more. His heart rate rose. The ridge went down for miles and miles and Zuko was gone. 

Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, but there was no enemy to throw himself at, no feat of strength that would tip this battle in their favor. The cat and mouse game was deady, but every wave of airbending Aang sent failed to knock their attacker away before Aang was targeted. Katara had no time to focus her ice spears. How did you hit an enemy you couldn’t see? Who you couldn’t take aim at? 

When Sokka was very young, before the Fire Nation came to his village, he’d spent long sun-filled days with his father. For a long time, Sokka thought they’d been training. And they had been, to a point. Sokka learned about seal hunting and how best to fish, what could be foraged and how to tan leather. More than that, his father had been playing with him. 

_You can’t throw straight — you have to account for the wind._

It had been a game. 

Angles and degrees cluttered Sokka’s thoughts, and he did not think of how deep the canyon was and where they would find the body. 

Toph could do nothing with her injury, but her hands were glued to the ground, her face etched with worry as she felt the earth shake. “He's going to blast this whole place right off the cliff side!”

“I can’t get an angle on him,” Katara said, “there’s not enough time to focus my bending!” 

“An angle. I can get an angle on him.” The lightbulb was flickering, but Sokka knew he only had one shot. It took more blasts to work out, and Sokka wet his finger feeling the breeze, knowing it might not be good enough to account for the playing field. At least the assassin was cocky enough that he didn’t move from his sentinel spot. Sokka ran the math, the angles, the _geometry_ through his mind. He only had one shot, but he also only had so much _time_ , before they were all blasted off the cliff. 

He was sure he was right. 

Pretty sure. 

He stepped out quick, and as his foot turned his body he snapped his arm like a whip as he sent his boomerang flying. It arced away, and then — beautiful, it arced back slamming hard against their attacker’s forehead. 

“That’s it!” he yelled, arm in the air. The man didn’t fall. Sokka’s boomerang could crack into tree trunks, break bone, lodge into rock, yet the assassin stood. Like a scary story told in the dark, like seeing a nightmare. “Oh, shit.” The man lumbered up, uneven and groggy as he pointed towards them. The courtyard would crumble under further explosions, they were pinned. Until, the assassin’s attack backfired, explosions popping around him at near distance. He went up in explosion after explosion, taking a chunk of the platform with him. 

Katara touched Sokka’s arm, but they didn’t look at each other. _You’re not a killer_ , she had said, but Sokka had first thought his boomerang would break the man’s skull. Even so, his attack had killed him. Killed him like…

“Did Zuko go over?” Aang asked quietly, glider in hand. It was too late to go after him. Aang was too late, and Zuko had definitely hit the bottom. 

“I think so,” Katara said and Sokka nodded. 

“No — wait!” Toph’s hands were still on the ground, brows furrowed in thought. “I think I feel him, he’s coming up the west side.”

Somehow, the courtyard still stood. The sun still shined, birds chirped as the fighting settled into silence. Zuko’s hands pulled himself up an exposed tree root, fingers scrabbling against tile as he heaved himself over the edge. He was alive, but singed, his sleeve bitten and given way to ash. He was hardly recognizable, his face pinched with worry. 

Aang met him there, extending his arm to pull the other up. “I can't believe I'm saying this, but... thanks, Zuko.” Aang spoke and Sokka nearly interrupted him. How did they know it wasn’t an act? That — that Zuko had wanted them to think he was trying to stop his assassin, only to almost die? 

That plan made no sense, the ‘almost dying’ part too real, but Sokka’s expression remained grim. 

“Listen,” Zuko said, “I know I didn't explain myself very well yesterday, I've been through a lot in the last few years, but I'm realizing that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought I had lost my honor, and that somehow my father could return it to me. But I know now that no one can give you your honor.” Sokka stiffened. What had he once told Zuko in a Ba Sing Se noodle shop? That Zuko couldn’t know true honor? Not when he was waiting for it to be dished out from his crazy father? 

“It's something you earn for yourself,” Zuko continued. “by choosing to do what's right. All I want to do now is play my part in ending this war, and I know my destiny is to help you restore balance to the world.” 

He turned to Toph, who still sat, uncomfortable from the wounds he’d inflicted. He bowed to her. “I'm sorry for what I did to you. It was an accident. Fire can be dangerous and wild, so as a firebender, I need to be more careful and control my bending, so I don't hurt people unintentionally.”

That was just what Aang wanted to hear it seemed, Sokka watched it happen helplessly, but felt a sting of pleasure when Aang cut short Zuko’s celebrating. “Not so fast. I still have to ask my friends if it's okay with them.” He turned to their earthbender. “Toph, you're the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?”

“Go ahead and let him join.” Smiling evilly, she pounded her fist into her open palm. “It'll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet.”

“Ok. Katara?” 

Katara frowned, briefly looking at Sokka before looking to Aang. “You need to learn firebending. Zuko may be a passable teacher.”

“Hey — ”

“Not done yet,” Aang said cheerfully. Now he turned to Sokka. “Sokka?” 

Sokka looked at Zuko. For the first time since the catacombs in Ba Sing Se, since the battle afterwards, they looked at each other eye to eye. Sokka couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t know what he wanted, what he _really_ wanted. But he knew not to trust him. Sokka also knew that Aang needed a firebending teacher. 

“Why should we believe you’ve changed?”

Zuko’s eyes dashed to the floor and he wet his bottom lip with his tongue. Even from here, Sokka could see that his lips were cracked. When his eyes rose, they met Sokka’s, not Aang’s. “I accept it will take time to earn your trust. I’ve made bad decisions… the wrong decisions.” Now his eyes did go to Aang, and they were sorrowful. “I regret Ba Sing Se. I know that I cannot take it back, but I would, if I could. Now, I _promise_ you I’ll do what I can to help you.” 

Again, Sokka’s chest ached with fury and anger. He’d thought that _before_. To his side, Aang nodded, expresion pensive, taken in. Still, he looked to Sokka for his input. 

“That sounds nice. But how do we _know_ that you’ve changed.” 

Sokka knew he was asking for the impossible, knew Aang or Toph or even Katara might come to Zuko’s rescue soon. Still, he _pushed_. 

Zuko’s expression cleared. “I swear on my mother, I will do everything I can to help your cause.” 

The others were silent, but Sokka could hear his own heart racing. Finally, Sokka looked away, he spoke to Aang but looked at neither of them. 

“I want to defeat the Fire Lord. That’s the most important thing in the world to me, Aang. If you think this is the way to do it, then, fine.” 

That was that, and something in Zuko’s face broke. He smiled in relief. “I won’t let you down!” He stepped forward, but Sokka had already turned away, swept Toph up in his arms and carried her back towards the fountain. Then, he was gone, into the tunnels.


	3. Chapter 3

The Avatar didn't ask and neither did any of his companions, so Zuko had no need to share. He'd been to this temple before, walked its winding passageways and passed through its rooms and gardens. At the time, he had been searching for any hint of the missing Avatar, but the monastery was both long abandoned and long ransacked. He'd found nothing but his old uncle's anecdotes.

Where was uncle now? In the commotion that was the Day of Black Sun, he'd escaped before Zuko could break him out.

All along, Uncle Iroh had a plan. Even when he'd shared Zuko's past with him, he hadn't trusted Zuko with his escape. Though, why should he have?

Zuko was determined to make things right. For the first time, he felt as though he was truly on the right path. It wasn't the sickly, faux cheer his decision in Ba Sing Se had given him. That was only a mask, and though he'd tried to wear it, to make it his reality, the curtain had fallen. There was no mask now, just Zuko's determination to do something, anything right.

The room Katara showed him to was quiet and away, giving him privacy. He also realized it was away from the camp by the fountains, where most of them were sleeping. That stung, though he understood. He set his bag down with his meager belongings. A change of clothes, his swords, the golden hair piece, a sandal left behind by his uncle.

"We'll be having lunch soon," Katara said as her arms crossed. She didn't turn to leave. Zuko nodded and waited, though she did not move.

"Thank you. You — I promise you won't regret this."

Her brow remained furrowed, and finally she sighed. "I'm not sure what I think about your _transformation_ , but everyone knows you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past." She took a step forward into his space. "Listen, I don't know _what_ you did to Sokka, but if I see one slip-up, if you give me one reason to think you'll hurt Aang again, or that you'll trick Sokka, I won't hesitate to end your 'destiny' right here, right now."

Zuko's heart rose into his throat; Katara's eyes were ice cold and frigid. He'd seen that sort of look before, usually on the battlefield. "I won't. I promise." She nodded and turned to leave, but Zuko stupidly said, "What did he tell you?"

Anger flashed again in her eyes. "What did you _do_?"

So, Sokka hadn't told them. Zuko hadn't been sure, but it seemed obvious now. What Zuko had done in the lower ring was cruel, though he'd had no plan or thought for the consequences at the time. What would Sokka have even told them? What was the abbreviated version of what they'd been doing together? Long walks through Ba Sing Se? Short conversations turned arguments about weapon craftmanship? Dinners? Fucking? Lying? No, he wasn't surprised Sokka hadn't told them, he no doubt felt tricked and embarrassed.

Zuko wasn't even sure in retrospect if... Sokka had any real interest in men, or if Zuko had just been someone warm to be with for a short while after he'd offered himself up so willingly.

He'd played their conversations over and over in his head, particularly once he'd allowed himself to think of them after leaving the capitol. Sokka had an on-and-off girlfriend. He'd never been with a guy before Zuko.

Had it meant anything to him?

Katara was still waiting for an answer. What had he done? "I made him trust me, then I betrayed his trust. I will never do that again."

Sokka's sister wasn't mollified. If she didn't know the whole story, then she had no way of knowing that Zuko's deception preceded the four-hour wait in the crystal prison. But she nodded once and glared at him. "Lunch is in an hour."

* * *

Sokka didn't join the group for lunch, which didn't improve Zuko's nerves. Not that having Sokka there would have improved them — really, there was nothing to be done. He was out of place, and the Avatar's team knew it, so did their guests, who watched him cautiously. He'd started by having a brief conversation with Teo, which slowly fizzled out.

It was hard to make friends when your armies had laid waste to all they held dear.

"Hey! Zuko. Get me a bowl." It was Toph, whose feet had soaked up as much healing from the water as they could. Now they were wrapped, and she still couldn't walk. Zuko filled two bowls from Katara's pot before delivering one to Toph. He moved to step away, to give her space, to give _everyone_ space, but she slapped the ground beside her. "Sit here, in case I need you to _fetch_ me anything else."

This must be what she meant by 'pay back.' But it didn't seem malevolent, and he _had_ foolishly lashed out instead of listening to her before, so he shrugged and sipped his own rice porridge at her side. It was a little bland, but for now, he abstained from telling Katara so.

"So. Zuko," the Avatar said awkwardly. "How was your… uh, travel? You don't have a ship anymore." Aang seemed to realize his faux pas, but Zuko shrugged.

"No. No ship. Balloon."

"Oh cool, like the — "

"Yes. Salvaged by War Minister Qin after his assault on the Northern Air Temple."

The mood soured. Teo frowned. Aang coughed. "How was the view?"

"The view?" Zuko said incredulously. "You have a flying sky bison. You know what the view's like."

"Beautiful, right?"

Beside him, Toph snickered. "Yeah. Beautiful," Zuko agreed.

"So, firebending? When should I start?"

Immediately, Zuko wanted to defer. _Whenever you want. It's up to you. You're the Avatar._ But if he were to be the Avatar's firebending _teacher_ , he'd need to act like one. He would need to channel his teachers from the past. "After lunch."

The Avatar started slurping.

Teaching was a mess from start to finish. The Avatar could hardly muster a flame and Zuko's own were pathetic. It was no wonder he'd been unable to keep his assassin at bay. The gusts of flame were hardly more than warm air.

"Maybe we need a long sleep," the Avatar said, yawning. In a poor mood, Zuko let him flee.

By morning, the Avatar had taken to the sky on his glider, pursuing fun, rather than boring and inept lessons. Zuko stood at the edge of the Air Nomad courtyard watching the flighty creature he'd spent so much time chasing. Beside him, Katara shook her head. "You can go after him on Appa if you want."

"No." Zuko sighed. "It won't work. He'll start playing with Appa."

"Good," Toph said from behind them. "Because I need your help."

"Toph," Katara chastised, "you can walk today."

"Yeah, but we're not paid up. And I got used to _not_ walking."

So began Zuko's day in Toph's service. He polished her bangles, fetched her meals, and finally, carried her around the Air Nomad Temple. It was bizarre, but for whatever reason, Zuko didn't feel like Toph was being _mean_. Her laughter didn't have the sharp edges he knew from Azula; instead they were full of mirth. It at least made _him_ laugh, though he wouldn't admit it aloud.

"Farther up?" he asked. The girl was surprisingly heavy with muscle, but Zuko could still carry her without problem. From his back, she leaned over and slapped a hand against the wall to see. "Yep, up to this garden."

It was a gorgeous room, full of light and plants that had gone wild after one hundred years alone. While there was no main fountain, channels ran through carrying irrigated water and mosaic tiles decorated the floor. Zuko wondered what century it was from when Sokka spoke.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Hey, Snoozles. I'm making Sparky here do my chores."

Zuko stiffened, not at the nickname, though that surprised him, but at Sokka's stormy expression. "I didn't know — "

Toph kicked his side with her foot, as though he were an ostrich-horse. "Hush, errand boy!"

"Ok?" Sokka said, frowning. "Then go have _fun_ elsewhere, or whatever it is you're doing."

Toph pushed off Zuko's back. Katara was right, she _could_ walk. She pushed Zuko forward. "My last errand is sparring with Sokka. You can do it."

"Sparring?" both boys said at once, then Sokka glared at him.

"Yeah. Usually I throw rocks at him. But I figure you can figure it out."

"I'm not sure if I — " Zuko said, just as Sokka said, "Wait, Toph — " but the girl was already wandering away, one finger in her ear digging for wax.

Between them, the garden was quiet save for the sound of insects and the birds that hunted for them. Zuko spoke first. "She throws rocks at you?"

"Fuck off."

"Why would you — oh. Oh, wow." Zuko's eyes fell on the sword in Sokka's grip. It was beautiful. The sword seemed familiar in style, but he did not recognize the metal. It was stunning. Instinctively he stepped toward Sokka, but before he could get too close, Sokka raised the sword. "Sorry. I'm — Sokka, I'm sorry."

"No," Sokka growled. "We're not doing this."

"But I need to — "

"You need to do a lot of things, but _not_ this."

Silence stretched, but Zuko couldn't make his legs carry him away. Instead his voice cracked, "You never met me at the fountain. To spar."

"Oh, so _what_?" Sokka spat, now looking furious. "I got busy with Avatar stuff. Stopping Fire Nation stuff. Don't even try to tell me you wouldn't have betrayed us for Azula if I'd _met you to spar_."

"No, you're right," Zuko said, miserably.

"Your psycho killer sister almost killed Aang! She nearly _did_. And I know that didn't bother you, because you sent an assassin after us!"

"You're right."

"Do you have _anything_ to say for yourself?"

Did he? How could he explain? Yes, Azula was cruel, mean, manipulative. He knew all of this, but still, the thought of being needed by her, of being accepted by her, of being 'in' with her was like liquor. When you'd been hurt so badly by someone, you wanted so badly to be accepted by them. For the hurt they'd done to be regretted. It's what he'd craved from her for so long, what he'd craved from his father.

Zuko's life was a cycle of trials and tribulations, but it had taken him far too long to break the cycle. To realize Azula would never care for him.

"I'm sorry. I'll do whatever I can to prove myself."

"You'll tell me another sob story about your dad? Or your mom? Did you make up that story about your scar for points?"

Zuko's smooth cheek flamed. "No. That was the truth."

Sokka looked uncomfortable, but he masked it regardless. "You always meant to betray me?"

"I didn't lie to you about everything, Azula _was_ trying to capture my uncle and me. But — yes. I thought capturing the Avatar was the only way." Sokka's eyes flashed, hot with anger, and Zuko's voice sped up. "But then, then I wasn't sure. I saw those flyers, for the bison. I _was_ the one who found him. I let him go. By that point, I… I thought I could let it all go."

Sokka was quiet, eyes angry and Zuko could see the gears turning in his head. Thinking of the flyers, of the bison's escape. Was he thinking what Zuko was thinking? Was he wondering — had Zuko slept with him when he still meant to betray him?

Zuko prayed he wouldn't ask.

"You couldn't let it go. You say you can now…" Sokka shrugged. "You're here to train Aang, nothing more."

Zuko had no desire for Sokka to learn about their abysmal attempts at firebending training. He was eager to be helpful, eager to prove himself. He had to be able to do that _somehow_. "I can spar with you."

"No thanks," Sokka said, his feet moving him into a sword form. One that seemed familiar.

"Really. Wait here. I can get my swords."

"I won't be that long. I'm almost done."

"Well," Zuko said, reaching for anything, "hand to hand then?"

Sokka stopped his drill, sword in the air. He looked over his shoulder. "No bending?"

"No bending."

Sokka laid down his boomerang and sword with care. He stood across from Zuko, and Zuko was too relieved to feel threatened by Sokka cracking his knuckles. "Ok," Sokka said, "No bending." Then without ringing a bell or saying "go," he pushed forwards, landing a swift punch to Zuko's cheek.

Zuko fell backwards, and Sokka stayed in position. One foot was forward, his leading hand ready. The prince didn't curse or complain or demand a do-over. He got to his feet, and put one in front of the other.

It was vicious. Sokka, perhaps from being a non-bender, was scrappy as all hell. Zuko knew how to move and attack, he knew his katas through rote memorization, but usually he didn't need to _connect_ with such physical power in battle. Instead his attacks would send bursts of flame and energy forward. When he fought without bending, he used his swords. It wasn't as though he'd never studied hand to hand, but this was new. This was fast.

Sokka got in an additional kick to Zuko's side. At one point, grabbing Zuko's forearm and flinging him behind him. Then Zuko was moving fast, kicking out Sokka's legs and landing his own punches. Neither fell for long, neither stopped the match to start a second round. The round went on, time disappearing as their bodies collected sweat, as their breath quickened.

Zuko landed a punch to Sokka's side, who cursed and went for Zuko's shoulder. He dodged, but Sokka had feinted, and his foot tripped Zuko's and he went tumbling down. Sokka followed him, straddling his hips with his fist raised and drawn. Blue eyes glinted dangerously and Zuko prepared for the second hit to his face that day.

Then, Sokka's hand grabbed at the back of his neck gripping the short strands there. He dragged Zuko up, his mouth crashing against Zuko's in a storm of teeth and tongue. Shocked though he was, it also felt inevitable. The spark between them, reignited through sparring, was bright enough to blind, was hot enough to light its own forest fire. Zuko went limp in Sokka's grasp, but groaned beneath him, his hips jerking against Sokka's, their arousal evident and hardening and unmistakable.

" _Fuck_ ," Sokka grunted, breaking the kiss. His eyes were still dark — they weren't the eyes Zuko remembered. At the inn, Sokka had been so determined to take his time, to go slow, to feel every inch of him before fucking him senseless. Later, when their trysts continued, Sokka had always smiled in the moment, turned him to putty and laughed while doing it.

He wasn't laughing now. Sokka reached between them, undid his own trousers. Then his mouth was on Zuko's again while he held him down and jerked himself off. Zuko's breath felt far away, nonexistent as his hips arched upwards for any friction from Sokka's thighs, but the other focused on the kiss, on holding him down, on jerking off until he was coming.

Sokka fell silent. When he looked up, his eyes met Zuko's and the expression was unreadable. " _Shit_ ," he said, "shit." Sokka wiped his hand on his trousers, got up quickly, and was gone, his weapons with him. Zuko laid back on the tile, still hot, still sweaty, mind running quickly. His hand lowered to his still-hard cock, and he bit his lip as he cursed himself.

* * *

Sparring with Sokka didn't help his firebending, it just made his thoughts even harder to manage. When his firebending lessons with the Avatar became a spectator sport, he tried not to rage at them, but his bursts of fire were still weak, small things, barely able to singe a plant.

"It's just… funny." Katara said. "It would've been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago. Now the timings bad."

"Yeah Zuko," Toph ribbed, "why didn't you choose a more convenient time to lose your bending?"

"I don't think I _lost_ it," he snapped. "It's still here, just weaker."

"You're sure it wasn't always that weak?" Katara asked.

 _What do YOU think?_ he almost shouted, but it wouldn't do to gloat about past violence. Instead he thought about his bending, how it had never seemed to come as natural to him as it did to Azula. He'd always been passable, but the inner flame that guided him had never been true. Until lately. It should be _more_ powerful, now that he was sure — and he was sure — that he was doing the right thing. "I bet it's because I changed sides."

"Because you changed _sides_?" Katara snorted. "Why would that change it?"

"Wait," Aang said, thoughtfully, from where a small blip of smoke rose from his otherwise empty hands. "I don't know… Zuko, what if your firebending comes from rage and you just don't have enough anger to fuel it the way you used to?"

The other benders twittered amongst themselves and Zuko looked at his palms. "Firebending is… very emotional," he says. "That…"

"So what?" Katara said, "Do we make Zuko angry?" Her head turned. Sokka strolled into the training yard, eyes on his friends. Not on Zuko. "Sokka, we're making Zuko angry so he can _firebend_ better. Want first dibs?"

Perhaps she meant it as a joke, but Sokka's eyes narrowed. He turned on his heel. "No."

The awkward silence that took over the group stretched long after Sokka's back was gone from view. Katara looked to Aang and shrugged, then frowned at Zuko. Not with malice anymore, with confusion.

"Okay," Toph coughed. "Anyway. You're gonna need to learn to draw your firebending from a different source. I recommend the original source. For me, it was badger moles."

Zuko had never heard how Toph had mastered earthbending, and he would have to admit her story enraptured him. Imagine! Being so young, but so in tune with your element. Zuko had never quite felt like that.

The most intune he'd felt with fire… was when he'd redirected his father's lightning.

Not appropriate for story time.

"That doesn't help me. The original firebenders were the dragons, and they're extinct."

"What do you mean?" Aang asked. "Roku had a dragon, and there were plenty of dragons when I was a kid."

"Well, they aren't around anymore! Okay?"

"Geez, okay, okay. Sorry." The kid didn't even know what he was apologizing for. Zuko breathed out his nose. He needed to think. The dragons were the original firebenders, had they taught the original human firebenders? It had been years since Zuko had thought of them; they were a story his mother had once told him when he'd felt badly about his bending lessons. "But maybe there's another way. The first people to learn from the dragons were the ancient Sun Warriors."

* * *

The Sun Warriors, it turned out, were assholes. The original fire benders, the dragons? Absolutely awe inspiring.

Zuko couldn't wait to tell his uncle what he'd seen, what he knew, the secret they shared.

"Does firebending always feel like that?" Aang chirped, turning from where he sat in the bison's mount.

"No," Zuko said, but he smiled where he sat further back on the saddle. It was strange to be riding the beast he'd chased for so long. Stranger to be having a conversation with the Avatar — with Aang — about firebending. "It's different." Zuko looked at his palm, flicked his arm and saw the fire burst from it before it was whisked away by the air currents around them.

Bright and golden and shining bright. Not harsh and red and bottled up. Zuko's firebending felt _clean_.

"I'm glad you joined us, Zuko," the Avatar said.

Zuko's firebending was clean, but his intentions weren't always. How could his actions make up for the past?

That night, Zuko could tell Sokka was itching to make fun of their sacred kata, unfortunately called a 'dance.' Unfortunately, he seemed more determined to ignore Zuko,

* * *

"You want to what?" Katara looked at him with reproach.

"Help you." It was said with a twinge of exhaustion. It was tiring tiptoeing around them all the time. "If you want help."

Katara's eyes were blue, the same pretty cobalt blue as Sokka's. The color of the sea when the sun beamed down upon it. He found himself looking away from them. "Can you cook?" she asked, in a voice that said she didn't think so.

"Yes! Of course I can cook." It was the repeat of a conversation he'd had before, with a different sibling in a different city.

"'Of course,'" Katara repeated. Her brows remained skeptical. "What… can you cook? You don't burn rice?"

Déjà vu. Zuko scowled. "I did feed myself while on the run. Noodles. Stews. I can cook rice." This was all a half truth. Experimenting with cooking had been a diversion in Ba Sing Se. While on the run, Zuko had primarily succumbed to stealing. With a groan, he amended, "I can _usually_ cook rice."

The waterbender's stare was long and searching. Then she shrugged. "Fine. Cut the radishes."

The Avatar's supplies were thin, primarily foraged in the days after the Day of Black Sun. Zuko's weren't any better. While he'd had the sense to pack before personally telling his father to fuck off, he would have been hunting and foraging himself soon if he hadn't been welcomed into the group. As he peeled and listened, Zuko blanched the more he heard.

"No meat?"

"None," Katara said.

"Fish, surely."

"No fish," Katara said, voice a gossiping whisper now.

"So how…"

"Vegetable soup. Meat goes on top."

Zuko shook his head in awe. The meal came together, a boring but likely filling stew of root vegetables and other foraged delicacies. There weren't many spices to be had, and Katara reminded him with a sigh that they weren't supposed to be on the run after the Day of Black Sun. While they were always ready to move, they hadn't left the battle as supplied as they would have been otherwise.

Zuko excused himself, running back to his room and returning with a small satchel. Katara snickered at the small spice collection he'd nicked from the palace kitchens, throwing in a "spoiled princes" comment for good measure. The aroma was well worth it though, and when the others filtered in, Zuko's chest swelled with pleasure when Katara said, surprising herself too, "Zuko helped cook."

The feeling dissipated when Sokka shot him a look of pure disdain. He did not join the chorus of compliments the two chefs received. Which, made sense, considering the last time Sokka had eaten Zuko's cooking.

The longer Zuko stayed, the more awkward it became to be sleeping in a private room when the others bedded down together. But it was more awkward to break the assignment, so Zuko retreated to his rooms after dinner, surprised when he was intercepted by Sokka.

He didn't look well. The bags under his eyes spoke of late nights and little sleep. But his blue eyes, cobalt like the sea Zuko had traveled across for so many years, focused on his ear, his shoulder, the wall — anywhere but Zuko's face. Zuko was glad he did. If he looked him in the eye, Zuko would see _him_ , above him, hand sticky and voice panicked. _Shit. Shit!_

When he finally spoke, he asked one too many probing questions about Fire Nation prisons.

Which wasn't good, because, "It's on an island in the middle of a boiling lake. It's inescapable."

That night, Zuko found Sokka climbing onto Appa. It was stupid to break into the Boiling Rock. Breaking out would be nearly impossible.

But Zuko was willing to try. Anything.

They took the balloon.


	4. Chapter 4

If Sokka had his way, he and Zuko would spend their days on opposite ends of the temple. It wouldn’t have been _hard_ , it was enormous. But Aang needed to train with him Sokka’s friends kept inviting him to meals. Even Katara seemed to be warming up to him. Last night she accepted _tea_ made from his hand, had even marveled at the taste.

“Wow, not bad. Are you sure it’s the same?” she’d marveled. Zuko had brewed from their stock of leaf. Grudgingly, Sokka had internally admitted that Katara was right. It did taste less _bad_.

“Yes,” Zuko had seemed so pleased with himself. Sokka had rolled his eyes. “Given the color, I brewed it before the water came to a rolling boil.”

This prompted what Sokka considered to be _the most boring conversation in the world._ Leaf drying, brew times, _mouth feel_. Something called pu-erh. “Learn that at the tea shop?” he’d snarked under his breath, but, unfortunately, still loud enough to hear.

“The tea shop?” Aang asked.

Sokka jerked straight up, eyes on Zuko whose face was red as he poured Haru a new cup.

“Uh, yeah,” Sokka said, reaching. “The tea shop. He mentioned it while we were sparring.”

“Oh yeah.” Toph was less interested in tea discourse, but still sipped her cup thoughtfully. “Who won that, anyway?”

Sokka thought he would die right then. He still couldn’t believe how he’d given in, how hard it had been _not_ to touch Zuko, _not_ to go for round two. But the embarrassment still stung. Zuko had duped him, tricked him, nearly ended the Avatar, and — he’d hurt _him_.

The still pink scar on the side of Sokka’s neck itched.

“Uh. Yeah. It was a cover story while my uncle and I were in Ba Sing Se.” That sobered the group around the fire. The wound from that betrayal was still tender. “Before I did what I did.”

Across from him, Katara’s shoulders loosened. The more Zuko confronted what he did, the more at ease she seemed to be around him. How would she feel, Sokka wondered, had _she_ been in the caverns with him? If _she’d_ been betrayed by him?

“But my uncle is a tea master,” Zuko said hotly. “Tea, he says, is good for the mind and body, and purifies the soul. I figure,” Zuko said, with that tone of voice that meant he was going to try and deliver a joke, “I’ll try anything at this point.”

The small group around the fire laughed, but Sokka still stewed.

If Zuko wasn’t going anywhere, he could at least tell him what he wanted to know about Fire Nation prisons. Sokka cornered him late that night, and though the other seemed shocked at being approached, he told him what he wanted to know.

Getting caught later while trying to borrow Appa by Zuko was a low point.

They took the balloon.

* * *

They sailed through the night, and all was dark save for the occasional burst of firebending when Zuko fed the balloon. They didn’t speak, which was almost annoying. They should be discussing everything Zuko knew about the high security prison. They should be talking about contingency plans. Did Zuko expect _Sokka_ to break the silence?

Or maybe, he was giving him space. The thought was charitable, but Sokka didn’t _want_ to be charitable.

It was light when Sokka finally cracked while staring out over the balloon’s edge. “Pretty clouds.”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Fluffy.” Sokka snorted, which made Zuko spin to look at him, suspicious. “ _What?_ ”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Hm.”

“My uh, a friend of mine actually designed these war balloons.” Maybe Katara was right. He couldn’t stop talking even when he wanted to.

“Yeah? No kidding.”

“Nope. No kidding. A balloon for war.”

“It was a… Fire Nation commission, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Zuko nodded while he punched another burst of flame into the balloon’s tank. “Well, if there's one thing my dad's good at, it's war.”

“Yeah. It seems to run in the family.”

Zuko stiffened. It occurred to Sokka that they were stuck together in a very small balloon basket. They could not swing on each other. But Zuko’s shoulders fell as he said, “Not everyone in my family is like that, ok?”

“I know, you've ‘ _changed_.’”

“I’m not talking about me. I haven’t proven it yet.” Another burst of flame for the balloon. “I meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me... And I really let him down.”

Sokka crossed his arms, frowning. “He did… help you chase us halfway around the world.”

“I think that surprised him too,” Zuko said darkly.

“What do you mean?”

Zuko was quiet, expression sullen but thoughtful. “Did you _expect_ to find the Avatar?”

Surprised, Sokka blinked. Weren’t they talking about Zuko’s uncle? “Uh. No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t usually find people in _ice_ ,” Sokka said, annoyed.

“And because you thought he was… gone. Dead. In the spirit realm. Hiding.” Zuko sighed. “A myth?”

It had been a hundred years. That was older than Sokka’s _gran_. Sokka’s _gran_ didn’t remember an Avatar. “Well, yeah, I guess.”

“When my father banished me, he told me I would be welcomed back if I could bring him the Avatar. A mythical being no one had seen for a hundred years.” At Sokka’s silence, he continued. “My father didn’t expect me to find the Avatar. Neither did my uncle, I think. But he stayed with me when I was banished anyway. He left his country to be me with me. _Willingly_.”

Sorrow coated Zuko’s words and Sokka’s stomach turned. How old had Zuko said he was? Thirteen years old? Sokka wasn’t big on reflection. He’d never really thought much about the berserk firebender chasing them across the world, except to mentally throw daggers at him. For the first time, Sokka really thought about it. Had Zuko not captured the Avatar he would have remained banished, unable to go home.

Ever.

It didn’t excuse him. It didn’t excuse the hurt and the pain he’d caused, but Sokka shifted uncomfortably.

“I think,” Zuko said, wonder now in his voice, “that my uncle has been a dissenter for much longer than I’ve known.”

“You sound surprised.”

“It’s treason,” Zuko said with a shrug. “I’m still getting used to being… treasonous. Over and over again.”

They were quiet. Sokka snickered first, then shockingly, that got Zuko going.

Zuko wasn’t forgiven, but Sokka could work with him for now. They had a mission. “Well, it’s lucky for us that you and your uncle love treason. I think he’d be proud of you. Leaving… must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t so hard.”

“You didn’t leave anyone behind?”

Zuko snorted. “You’ve met Azula.”

“Yeah, but you…” Sokka coughed. “Chose her before.”

“I did,” Zuko agreed. “I don’t know how to explain it. She’s… she’s always been like this, to some degree. I know what she’s like. I know she manipulates me; I know she tricks me. I don’t know why she can wrap me around her finger. When she pretends… when you think she cares about you…” Zuko burst more fire into the tank. Sokka didn’t think it needed that one. “She makes you feel important. Needed. It feels good.”

Sokka wasn’t sure he wanted to know all of this, it made his heart thaw, and he wasn’t ready.

“So. No Azula. No one else?”

“I, uh. Don’t really have friends. Maybe one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Mai.”

“That gloomy girl who sighs a lot? Isn’t she Azula’s friend?”

“Azula’s friends are… Well, she decided they’re her friends.”

_Oh._ “Oh.”

“Yeah. Mai is,” Zuko looked uncomfortable. “A good friend. She’s the only one who knows.”

“Knows where you are?”

“What? No. I couldn’t drag her into this. I mean,” Zuko tripped on his words, coughing awkwardly, “that I don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“I — uh. Well. Mai, she liked me, so I told her. You know.”

“What? You mean, _oh_. Oh. Yeah, ok.” Sokka looked away from him, over the edge of the balloon to the clouds and water that surrounded them. “So, you don’t? What? Like girls? At all?”

“Uh. Maybe, but — no. I don’t know.” Zuko hadn’t looked at him in a while. The stretch continued. “What about you?”

“My first girlfriend turned into the moon.” Where did _that_ come from? Sokka flushed.

But it made Zuko stand up straight and turn towards him, his golden eyes perplexed. He looked out over the horizon, then up into the sky. “Uh. That’s rough. Buddy.”

* * *

Sokka woke abruptly to Zuko’s hissed voice. It was now dark, and Sokka had escaped from the awkwardness between them by falling asleep. Now, he peered out over the balloon’s carriage. He could see the torchlight from the prison.

The closer they got, the less control Zuko had over the balloon. Finally, the entire thing quivered before skidding into the boiling lake water. Zuko helped pull him out of the wreckage, his expression shocked.

“It was the heat,” Sokka explained, inspecting the wreckage for anything helpful. “The volcanic air is hotter than the inside of the balloon, so it couldn’t stay afloat.”

“ _What_?”

“It’s science.”

Zuko blinked at him. Then his eyes narrowed. “You knew this would be a one-way trip?”

“Uh, I thought maybe.”

“And you _still_ wanted to come?”

“Hey. You didn’t have to come. Aren’t you _happy_ you came?”

“I’m never happy,” Zuko muttered. Then louder, “Uncle always said I never thought things through. But this... this is just crazy! Stupid even.”

“I _always_ think things through,” Sokka said. “That’s apparently my problem. I'm playing this by ear.”

“I hope you know what you're doing. There's no turning back now.” They disposed of the balloon wreckage. Now all that waited was breaking in and out of the boiling rock.

* * *

Being an impenetrable fortress had its perks — it was impenetrable. On the other hand, being impenetrable made the guards lazy. In newly stolen and donned uniforms, it didn’t take Sokka and Zuko long to be swept into the tide of prison guard life. A fight broke out nearly immediately, and to avoid suspicion they raced to the yard with others. There were enough they couldn’t be out of place.

It wasn’t that Sokka didn’t know what prisons were like. He did. He’d helped Haru and his people break out of a prison and had evaded plenty of others. Still, regardless of what the prisoners had done, it still made him sick to see the fire nation guards toying with them.

“I didn't do anything! I'm going back to my cell,” the prisoner called.

That didn’t stop the guard, who swept a fire whip out at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sokka saw Zuko jerk forward. His hand was on the other’s arm in a flash, gripping at his bicep and holding him back. “No,” he said, so lowly Zuko may not have heard. But he didn’t push forward again.

The guard was nothing but a bully. The guard _wanted_ the prisoner to firebend back. He _wanted_ to crow about the rules. He _wanted_ to throw the prisoner in solitary. Sokka jumped when the guard pointed at him.

“You! Help me take him in.”

Before he left, he pressed Zuko’s arm again, “Meet back here in an hour. Don’t blow our cover.”

Solitary confinement was more than that, and the cooler was a strange contraption. If the situation was any different, Sokka would have loved to have the time to pull it apart and see what made it tick. While fascinating, it was also… horrible. The prisoner, Chit Sang, shivered away in there, his firebending impossible. The more Sokka learned about the prisoners and guards, the more convinced he was of their own danger. The faster they were in and out, the better.

Zuko found him later. Sokka would recognize him anywhere, even behind the mask that obscured his features. Zuko only looked comfortable when he was bending. Otherwise, he held himself too stiffly, not knowing how to relax. His arms always fidgeting.

Oh. Seven syllables. He could use that if…

Sokka ignored the thought, but laughed when Zuko sidled up beside him and awkwardly said, “Hey there, fellow guard, how goes it?”

“Zuko… How many people have you said that to?”

“Shhh,” Zuko groused, both annoyed and worried. “Be careful with that name...”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Listen, I asked around. There are no Water Tribe prisoners.” Zuko lifted his visor. A bold thing to do in a fire nation prison when you yourself were a public enemy. “I'm afraid your father's not here.”

“You’re sure?” Sokka asked, voice cracking. “We should double check.”

“Sokka. I’m sure.”

“ _No.”_ Sokka slammed his fist against the wall. He couldn’t fail again. He wished he were an earth bender, that he could bring the whole prison down. If this was for nothing, if he had put himself and Zuko in danger for _nothing_ … Sokka stepped forward and rested both hands on the rail overlooking the yard.

He needed to _think_. They couldn’t use the balloon, but they still needed to get _out_. Behind him, Zuko was yammering nonsense to cheer him up, offering up a truly _weird metaphor_ too.

Sokka’s brain stopped, his eyes widened. “Maybe this trip wasn’t for nothing!”

Zuko looked pleased. “That's the spirit!” Then lower, “I can't believe that worked. I didn't even... know what I was saying.”

“That’s because it was complete nonsense. Something about a sandwich. But come over here.” Sokka reached for Zuko, pulling him closer, conveniently not thinking about how easy it was to revert to physical touch when he’d been avoiding Zuko like the plague the day previously.

“It’s _Suki_.”

* * *

Sokka was practically skipping. It was Zuko who grabbed his arm this time, pulling him back. Their helmets were on again, but they hadn’t yet joined the rest of the prison population. “Suki? Who is that?”

“Of the Kyoshi Warriors!” Sokka said, and then winced when he saw Zuko’s mouth flatten. “I’ll tell her you’re with us. Don’t worry.”

“I uh… burned down their island.”

“Yeah. I remember.” They were walking again, down the corridor Sokka Suki’s block of prisoners retreated to. Zuko’s pilfered set of keys jingled in his hand. They were close. “I think that’s her cell, I’ll talk to her first.”

“Oh. Ok.” Zuko’s voice sounded distant. “I’ll keep guard.”

“Thanks.” Sokka pushed by him and slipped inside the cell.

Suki was sitting up in her bed. “What is it?” she spat. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sokka affected a deeper voice. “Maybe you’re recognize this.” As he moved forward to gather her up in his arms, she darted, quick like a snake, grasping his wrist and pulling it taunt behind him. Sokka yelped, and Suki dropped him.

“Sokka! It’s — you! Wow, your jokes are still terrible, but… you’re here.” She looked bewildered. Happy, but bewildered as she allowed herself to be embraced this time.

“The other Kyoshi Warriors, are they here?”

“No. I don't know where they are. They locked me in here because I'm the leader.”

Sokka pressed his forehead to hers. “Well, you won't be here for long. I'm busting you out.”

Suki stiffened when a guard’s voice rang out. “Excuse me. I need to get into that cell.”

Zuko’s voice was loud but uncertain, trying to buy Sokka more time. “No, you can't go in there. The, uh, the lights are out. What if the prisoner sneaks up on you?”

Spirits. It was such a bad lie. Zuko couldn’t lie at all.

_Zuko_.

Sokka hadn’t told him that he and Suki had history. What had he thought, overhearing them?

Did it matter?

“Step aside, little fool,” the guard sighed. Then, she was yelling. “What are you _doing_?” The crashing and banging told the occupants all they needed to know. A fight had started, one that Zuko couldn’t hope to win without bringing down the entire prison upon them. He’d have to lose, and then he’d be captured. For Sokka.

“I need to go,” Sokka whispered to Suki, kissing her quick on the cheek.

He ducked out of the cell quickly but hadn’t yet managed to slip away before the guard was calling _him_ to hold Zuko down. Sokka’s stomach felt sour as he helped throw Zuko in a cell. “Don't worry, I'll figure it out,” he whispered.

He hoped it was true.

* * *

They stripped him of his helmet and uniform and pushed him into prisoners' clothes. They were scratchy and thick, a sallow ruddy pink. Maybe they had been true red once, but heavy wash after heavy wash with the burning bite of lye left them stiff. They were a far cry from his palace robes or his palace sheets with their high thread count and silky smoothness.

Zuko had received _looks_ when they took the helmet from him. That he was used to. Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom, blasting through the Water Tribes, Zuko had received many _looks_ for the scar on his face, sometimes outright disgust or curiosity — or worse, _pity_.

It was dangerous here, but Zuko didn’t think they yet recognized him. Locked away he wondered how Sokka would try to spring him free, or if he’d make the smart choice and get out of here while he still could. He and his girlfriend — because no, Zuko wasn’t _stupid_ — should get out of here as soon as possible. They may not have been able to find Sokka’s father, but they could save someone.

And she — well.

Suki was beautiful. Aesthetically, that was obvious. She also made Sokka’s face light up, as if his eyes were full of gross, fluttering hearts. The feeling seemed to be mutual. Having to sit and hear Sokka and his girlfriend lovingly reconnect had seemed enough of a reason to give himself up for capture.

The joke fell flat, even for Zuko, and he sighed. When the door unlatched, he sat up straight, schooled his features to indifference.

The man who entered was not handsome, but from his clothing, Zuko could hazard a guess this was the warden himself. “Well, well, well. I never thought I'd find you in here,” Zuko stiffened. “Prince Zuko.”

Not good. Being found out as the treasonous prince of his nation was not part of any hypothetical plan. “How did you know who I am?”

“How could I not? You broke my niece's heart.

“You're... Mai's uncle?” What had she told them? He hadn’t told her he was leaving. While they understood each other in their arrangement, he still... “I never meant to hurt her.”

“Quiet!” the warden snapped, gleefully. “You're my special prisoner now. And you'd best behave. If these criminals found out who you are, the traitor prince who let his nation down, why they'd tear you to shreds.”

Some of the loyalists would, certainly. And the others would no doubt jump at the chance to take their aggression out on one of the once-faces of the crown. “What's in it for you? Why don't you just send word to my father? You’d no doubt receive a handsome reward.”

“Oh, in due time. Believe me, I intend to collect.” The warden smiled.

* * *

Navigating the Boiling Rock as a prisoner was much harder than it was when disguised as a guard. The worst bit was — Zuko had no idea where he was _supposed_ to be after being released into the prisoner population.

“Prisoner!” a guard barked. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“...To the yard.”

“Leisure time is over. What shift are you on?” The way the guard said _leisure_ with a sneer told Zuko more than he needed to know. He did not, however, have any idea what shift he should be on.

A prisoner bumped into his side. “There you are,” she said. Then with a faux politeness she said to the guard, “Sorry, officer. Fresh meat. We’re mopping wing seven.”

She waited for the guard’s grumble, then Suki was pulling him away. To safety.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“First rule,” Suki said, “never look like you don’t have work to do.”

“Ok.” When she pulled him towards a group of prisoners, perhaps the ones from her block, he accepted the mop she thrust at him. “How did you recognize me?” She hadn’t seen him without his helmet on.

“As if I could forget.” No snark, and it wasn’t said cruelly. Suki kept her voice level.

“Oh right,” Zuko winced. “Sorry about that, by the way. Did we, uh, fight that day? Personally?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Okay. It’s — well, without the paint…”

“I get that a lot.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Awkward. So awkward! What was he supposed to say to Sokka’s girlfriend? Sokka’s girlfriend whose village he burnt down?

Suki didn’t seem eager to talk either, her eyes instead on her work. Until she huffed. “Do you even know how to use that?” she gestured towards his mop.

“I’m doing it, aren’t I?”

“You’re just rubbing dirt around.”

Being taught to mop by Sokka’s girlfriend was a new blow to his ego, though he listened. He’d mopped the floors of Pao’s tea shop, hadn’t he? Uncle had complained often, but — they hadn’t been that bad, had they?

“Great, you’ve already met!” Sokka sounded much too cheery considering everything. Regardless, Zuko relaxed. His eyes stayed on the floor though, mop digging out grime.

“Well...” Suki trailed off.

“Already met,” Zuko corrected. “We’ve already moved past the village burning.” It was said dryly, though still apologetic, and surprisingly, Suki laughed. Not a barrel laugh, not a big outburst by any means, but a small chuckle that put Zuko at ease.

They ducked behind the staircase with Sokka. “So, listen, I think I have an escape plan. I checked out the coolers again, and the point of them is to keep firebenders contained, right?”

“Yeah…” The thought of them made Zuko uneasy. What a cruel punishment. It was right up there with keeping earth benders in metal cages and water benders kept from any source of water. His people, it seemed, were exceedingly good at torturing, even their own.

“So, they're completely insulated and sealed to keep the cold in. Well, to keep the cold in, it also has to keep the heat out, right?”

Suki sighed, “Let’s get to the point, Sokka.”

“It's a perfect boat for getting through the boiling water.”

“A boat?” Zuko sent an incredulous look towards Suki, who stared back, equally bewildered. “The cooler as a _boat_? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s science.”

“So was the hot air balloon failing.”

“Leave the science to me, buddy.” Zuko’s face reddened, but he also shifted uncomfortably. _Buddy_. “I walked around the perimeter. There's a blind spot between two guard towers. It's the perfect launching point. I already tested it out. We'll roll the cooler into the water and just float with the current. It'll take us straight across. If we don't make a sound, no one will notice. And bing-bang-boom, we're home free.”

“Bing. Bam. Boom?”

“ _Bing-bang-boom_ ,” Sokka corrected.

“But how are you going to get the cooler out?” Suki asked.

It was a really good question, one so good, another prisoner took an interest. “Yeah, how are you going to get the cooler out?” Chit Sang asked when he hopped over the edge.

“What?” Sokka asked. “We didn't ... w-we didn't say that!”

“Yeah. You heard wrong.” Zuko kept himself from snapping out a _get lost_ too.

Chit Sang wasn’t discouraged. “I heard you hatching an escape plan, and I want in.”

There's nothing to get in on,” Zuko said, voice rising.

“Yeah, the only thing we're hatching is... an egg.” Sokka managed, lamely. Both Zuko and Suki smacked their hands to their foreheads.

It seems they at least had something in common.

* * *

The plan went into motion smoothly. The orchestrated fight between Zuko and Chit Sang garnered the right number of spectators. After the attempted subterfuge and then the demoralizing imprisonment, it felt good to let go. Zuko thought even Chit Sang was surprised by their fight. The prisoner may have been big, and he could certainly hit hard, but he didn’t know Zuko, he didn’t know Zuko’s life or training.

When Chit Sang tossed Zuko over his shoulder, Zuko hit the ground and swept his feet out, catching and tripping him. That was when he heard Sokka raising the alarm to the guards. “I need back up!”

Chit Sang caught him in the chest, and Zuko almost wanted to see how this spar would go. But enough guards were watching now, so tossed a burst of flames toward the other prisoner. A one-way ticket to the cooler.

It wasn’t what he imagined. Zuko had spent years before the Avatar revealed himself traveling from one pole of the world to the other. He’d even dived through the icy waters of the Northern Water Tribe, with the intent to capture the Avatar with only his firebending to keep him company. Zuko knew cold, but at least when he was tromping through the poles, he’d had _real clothes on_.

He breathed in deep, his inner fire coiling in his lungs and melding with his breath. The technique his uncle taught him had served him well once before, and it did now too. There was no telling how long it would take for Sokka to get away from any perceived duties to release him.

In the meantime, Zuko tried not to think about how small the cooler was. That aspect was worse than the cold.

Later, when door to the cooler clanked open, Zuko worried that the warden would be there to mock him. But, no, Sokka’s warm blue eyes met his. “I can take you back to your cell if you've learned your lesson.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, fire wisping from his mouth when he smiled. “I have. Completely.” He held up a handful of bolts and screws and had to keep himself from smiling too widely when Sokka beamed.

“Listen, I got Suki and Chit Sang out of their cells a few minutes ago. They'll be waiting for us at the shore, we should…”

Both went quiet. Then Zuko hissed, “Someone's coming!” He grasped Sokka by the uniform, dragging him into the cooler with him.

“Yeah,” a guard said. “New arrivals coming in at dawn.”

“Anybody interesting?” Asked the other.

“Nah, just the usual. Some robbers, a couple traitors, some war prisoners.” Sokka stiffened beside him. “Though I did hear there might be a pirate!”

The voices quieted as the pair of guards retreated, and Zuko spoke first. “War prisoners. It could be your father.” The cooler was small, and Sokka was pressed into his side, his leg between Zuko’s. While Sokka _also_ knew polar winds, he was also not wearing furs.

Sokka shivered, though his face was set. “I know.”

Zuko breathed in, feeling the fire warm him from the inside out, then he reached out a hand. Sokka was cold to his touch, so Zuko rested both of his hands on his arms, warming them.

“Well, what should we do?” Zuko asked. “Are we going ahead with the plan or are we waiting another night?”

“I don't know!” Sokka shook his head. Perhaps too distracted to push Zuko away. Instead, instinctively pressing closer to the fire bender’s inherent warmth. “Is it right for me to risk Suki's freedom, _all_ of our freedom on the slim chance that my dad is gonna show up?”

“It's your call, Sokka.”

“Why’s it always _my call_?”

“This is _your_ field trip,” Zuko said, but then his voice softened. “And I keep hearing that you’re the ‘idea guy.’”

“Ok, see, that’s the thing! I’m _not_. I said I was going to wing this instead of overthinking it and look at us! You’ve already been found out, and we’re one dangerous boat ride away from falling into actual boiling water.”

“You said it’ll work.”

“And it will! Probably! But maybe I _shouldn’t_ be the idea guy.” Through his rant, Zuko found that there were only inches between them, but Sokka’s thoughts were on his failings. “I should have cut my losses at the invasion. Then, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess at all. If I’d done that, Suki wouldn’t have been sent here, and my dad might not be on his way here. The whole tribe would be safe!”

Sokka sighed, leaning fully into Zuko’s space. “Maybe sometimes it's better to call it quits before you fail.”

Zuko took a careful breath. The sentiment wasn’t hard to imagine; it certainly wasn’t hard to _feel_. His hands moved, rubbing up and down Sokka’s cold arms, ignoring the way his muscles felt beneath taunt skin. “No, it’s _not_. Look, Sokka, you're going to fail a lot before things work out.”

“Wow. Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Listen. Even though you'll probably fail over and over and over again — ”

“Zuko, _”_ Sokka snapped. “Seriously, you’re not helping.”

Zuko reached and grabbed Sokka’s shoulders, watching the way his eyes widened. Did he feel what Zuko felt? “Even if you’ve failed, even if you think you _will_ fail, you still have to try every time. You can't quit because you're afraid you _might fail_.”

“But I _have_ failed.”

“And so have I, but if it’s not worth trying, then we should roll over and get it over with. Let my father win.”

“Zuko,” Sokka said, voice low.

It would be so easy to give into the warmth, to feel Sokka against him again. To feel his lips and his body and the passion he put into everything he did. It would be so _easy_ to kiss him, but Zuko remembered Sokka’s face from the temple.

The cold stares, the heated arguments, the disgust as he’d wiped his hand on his trousers after their sparring match. Usually, he thought of anything but the ferry ride to Ba Sing Se and what had happened afterward in the city. Giving into Jet, and then being made to feel lesser for having done so.

It was something he wasn’t yet ready to confront, not fully, not yet. But Zuko knew he never wanted to feel like that again.

“The guards are gone,” he said, breaking the spell. His eyes lowered from Sokka’s to rest on his neck. Then his hand rose, thumb brushing gently against the scar with just the ghost of a touch. The scar he’d put there. Sokka blinked at him, surprised, but Zuko didn’t wait.

He pushed the cooler open and stepped out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check end notes for a content warning.

Chit Sang and his crew weren’t amenable to the change of plans. With the cooler already in their grasp, why wait another night? Sokka, Suki and Zuko could have fought the others on the decision, but they might have raised the alarm. In the end, Chit Sang sailed away with the cooler, Suki and Zuko returned to their cells, and Sokka slept fitfully in the storage room…

Zuko was terrible at giving advice, but his words in the cooler somehow stuck in Sokka’s chest throughout the night. If he gave up trying, then what _was_ the point of all of this? Of this war? No matter how much Sokka loved Aang, the kid was never going to come up with his own plan. If they weren’t going to try again and again, then why bother at all? It _would_ be better just to roll over for Fire Lord Ozai and wait for the end of the world as they knew it.

Not happening.

Still, Sokka couldn’t sleep. He’d almost given in again. In the cooler and taking what Zuko had to offer. It had been easy in Ba Sing Se, when they were acting solely off of hormones. Living in the moment, as if they actually believed the words _there is no war in Ba Sing Se._ It was different now. Zuko had lied to him, betrayed him. Sokka had felt so _stupid_. For weeks he’d agonized over his actions, going over every word they’d spoken to one another. Had he given anything away to Zuko that could hurt Aang or their cause? By not stopping him in the lower ring, was it Sokka’s fault Aang had nearly died?

No — died. Actually, died and come back, thanks to Katara.

It was hard to trust again after being hurt. When he thought about it too deeply, his scar itched terribly even though Katara said the pink of the scar would likely fade over time. Stubbornly, a part of Sokka still wanted to cling to distrust, to continue to punish for past transgressions.

And Zuko… Through it all, he still trusted Sokka’s leadership. _“It's your call, Sokka.”_

For a moment in the cooler, Sokka had thought Zuko wanted what Sokka wanted. To gather heat in new ways. But he hadn’t, and maybe he hadn’t wanted to give what Sokka had taken in the air temple garden. He had kissed back, but…

 _Suki_.

In Ba Sing Se, Sokka told Zuko that yes, he did have a girlfriend. An on-again, off-again arrangement. They were “on” when they were together. So how was he supposed to manage both? If they were in the same _room_ together?

Sokka didn’t sleep well that night; instead, he opted to roll out of the storage room bright and early. He found Zuko and Suki after breakfast and together they found a nice vantage point in the shadow of a tower where they could watch the prisoners come in on the gondola. Chit Sang and his crew had been found early that morning — apparently, they’d been too loud while crossing the boiling lake. That was one of Sokka’s plans determined a failure.

“What if he’s not here?” Sokka muttered under his breath.

“Then we find another out,” Zuko said simply.

A guard below called, and through the mist they saw the gondola begin descending towards the landing platform. It took an age for bureaucracy to be ready for the prisoners, but when they started filing out, all three watched intently.

“This is it,” Sokka said. “If my dad's not there, we've risked everything for nothing.”

“Sokka, it was never an option not to try,” Suki said. She reached out and gripped his wrist. It was comforting. Zuko gave them a look before gazing back down at the platform.

Under his breath, Sokka muttered, “Come _on_ ,” as prisoners filed off. They were tall and short, presenting male and female. But so far, no sign of his father.

“Is that him?” Zuko’s raspy voice asked.

“My dad doesn’t have a _nose ring_ ,” Sokka snapped, irritated. More bodies filed off, then trickled to none. “That's it? That can't be it.”

“I’m sorry.” Suki whispered.

“Sokka,” Zuko started quietly, but he was interrupted when a guard called out an order.

“You! Off the gondola!”

Chief Hakoda of the Water Tribe stepped off.

* * *

The warden greeted his new prisoners personally. Sokka stood with the guards, a quiet watcher to the disrespect the warden showered on his prisoners, but especially his father. As the chief of the Southern Water Tribe and a prisoner from the attack from Day of Black Sun, Hakoda was no doubt one of the highest-ranking prisoners in the prison, save for Prince Zuko. It could be taken as a point of pride. Sokka _chose_ to take it as a point of pride. But the degradation of the warden made his jaw clench.

It took time to finally get his father alone. He was so nervous; he forgot the bucket on his head. “You’re ok. I’m so — I’m so glad.” Then he remembered nearly losing his solar plexus to Suki. _“Dad, it's me._ ”

“Sokka!” It had been too long since Sokka and his father stood face to face, and he melted into the hug. It felt like home, like wide open tundra and sea salt. Like being a kid again. “My son. What are you doing here? I almost took your head off.”

“I’m here for you! But we found Suki too, a Kyoshi Warrior, she’s my — our friend.”

If his father noticed his slip, he didn’t comment. “Kyoshi Warrior… I met a few of that sect at the Fire Capitol’s prison. Bato and the rest of the men are still there.” Suki would be relieved to hear that, that they were all alive.

“They’re good people. Suki’s their leader, she’s going to help us escape.”

“Good. We'll need all the help we can get.”

Time to get it over with. “And you know Prince Zuko?”

“The son of the Fire Lord? I don't know him, but I’ve certainly _heard_ of him.”

“Well, he's here too.”

His father’s face darkened. “Not good. Do you have a plan for that problem?”

“ _No_. He’s also my — our friend. He’s teaching the Avatar firebending.” Sokka was talking too quickly. The thought of his father misunderstanding, of his father not trusting Zuko was a terrible thought. “He wants to take down his father.”

“Of course he does. From what I understand, the siblings are vying for the throne.”

“It’s not like that, or, uh, more than that, I guess. He knows his father is a monster. He’s been hurt by him.” Sokka was revealing too much, still talking too quickly. He knew Zuko would sputter and vent to have his business revealed, but it was suddenly strikingly clear to Sokka that Hakoda of the Water Tribe must _like_ Zuko. He shouldn’t think him evil or conniving or cruel. It was fine for Sokka to waffle over whether to trust Zuko, but with heat on his face it was clear to him that Hakoda’s impression should be glowing.

More than that, for the first time, Sokka really thought about his father. Then of the Fire Lord. Fathers should be honorable, strong, protective. They should make you feel safe. Sokka was lucky, he realized, perhaps even an outlier. He had never thought about it like that before.

His father wasn’t _squinting_ at him, but he did frown. “Ok. If you trust him, then fine.”

“We spar together,” Sokka blurted, and then bit his tongue. Why was he so _stupid?_ His face was heating like a furnace. “After all he's done, it was hard to trust him. But he's really proven himself, and I never would've found you without his help.”

Hakoda’s hand raised to rest on Sokka’s shoulder. “I trust you, son. What’s the plan?”

“We had one, but some of the other prisoners got involved and ruined it. I… don’t know if there's another way off this island.”

“Sokka, there's no prison in the world that can hold two Water Tribe geniuses.”

“Then I guess we better find two.”

* * *

It was the start of a plan, it might even work. Now they just needed everyone on the same page. Suki was easy to find, but Zuko wasn’t in the yard with the other prisoners.

“Suki!” Sokka reached for her hand and tugged her towards Hakoda. “Dad, this is Suki, Suki this is my dad.”

“You can call me Hakoda,” Hakoda said, introducing himself properly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Suki, we have a plan. Where’s Zuko?” Suki’s expression was strained, had been strained since he’d arrived. Sokka slowed down.

“Guards came. They took him away.”

“Where? Why?”

“I don’t know, they went that way.”

“I’ll find him. Dad, can you catch Suki up?”

Sokka knew Zuko could handle another round of the cooler, but when he ran through the cooler cells, Zuko wasn’t visible through any of the small windows. Worried now, Sokka sped towards Zuko’s cell block, though he wasn’t there either. The only other place he could be was the warden’s office, which would be very, very bad.

Sokka was halfway there when he passed the corridor for an unused wing. He heard voices.

“Just imagine,” said a voice, oily and snide. “Being born with a golden-fucking-spoon in your mouth, and then spitting it out.”

“Really can’t,” a second voice said. Then it turned questioning. “Hey prince — yeah, surprised? — word travels fast. Guess how much I make at this shitty job?”

Sokka crept carefully forwards. He saw Zuko, standing warily between three guards. He didn’t speak.

“C’mon,” the third said. “This job sucks _and_ the commute’s worse. When was the last time I saw my kids, you think?”

Again, Zuko didn’t respond.

Second voice again: “We’re gone so often, Rong here doesn’t even know if they _are_ his kids.”

The guard laughed and Rong pushed him angrily, but the first voice spoke again, almost dreamy. “If I were the prince of the Fire Nation? _And_ the first born? I’d sit down, shut up, do what daddy says.”

The three laughed. Rong said, “He’s not laughing. What’s not funny?”

“If you’re going to take out your aggression,” Zuko rasped, “then just do it.”

“Smart ass,” said three, as he punched him in the stomach.

Zuko doubled over, and Sokka was moving forward, his feet acting on their own. Then, Zuko’s face lifted, eyes widening when he saw him. He shook his head. _No_.

 _No_. That looks said. _Don’t give us up._

The first one, the whiny one, kicked him. “Well, if it’s what he _asked for_. Kind of pretty too. You’re sure we don’t have the _princess_?”

Zuko spat fire at him.

Rong shook his head, “Too far. I’m staying out of this.”

“Then get out of here,” said three. “Not all of us have against-the-rules girlfriends.” His hand reached out, digging into Zuko’s loose and shaggy hair. He looked to his friend and said, “You’re right. He _is_ pretty.”

“ _Do not touch me!_ ” Zuko yelled. Where before he’d seemed resigned to last through a beating, he now breathed fast, eyes glinting and wild.

“ _Hey_ ,” Sokka said, voice as loud and deep as he could make it. All three guards went rigid, though they relaxed when they saw it was only another guard.

“ _What_?” snapped Three.

“I need to take the prisoner; he’s coming with me.”

“And you can’t wait another fifteen minutes?” he laughed. “We were only getting started.”

Sokka wished for boomerang, who could crack bones with enough force. Or space sword, who cut like a dream. It would be better to take care of the problem the old fashioned, bloody way. “The warden wants him. _Now_.”

Immediately all three deflated, even the one with his grimy hands in Zuko’s hair. The first groaned, but said in a sing-song voice, “I guess we’ll have to find you later, prince.” As he passed Zuko, he kicked him swiftly.

Then they were gone.

“Zuko?”

Zuko was quiet when he stood. If anyone could take a beating and get back up, it was Zuko, but he did not answer Sokka’s question. His gaze was on the ground. Eyes narrowed.

“Are you... ok?”

“ _I don’t care,”_ Zuko snapped. “I’m _fine!_ ”

The words were strikingly familiar, and the memory hit Sokka like swift punch to the gut. The small apartment in Ba Sing Se. Zuko cooking. Then they were kissing, then they were doing more. And Sokka had needed to know, did Zuko _want_ him to call him degrading things? Did he _want_ Sokka to be rough with him?

 _I don’t care!_ he’d said. At the time, Zuko had always seemed angry. But that was another time, when they’d been strangers. Now, the flip from accepting and calm to fury was striking. Was scary.

Was worrying.

“Zuko.”

“No,” Zuko said, calming down. He took one, long steadying breath. Then he shook his head. When he looked at Sokka, his expression was indifferent. “You found your father?”

“Yes. But — ”

“No,” Zuko said, shaking his head firmly. “Tell me about your father.”

This discussion wasn’t over. Maybe Sokka wasn’t the best equipped to _have it_ , but it wasn’t over. “Yes. New plan, but it's gonna need a big distraction. We’ll all meet in the yard in one hour.”

“Ok. What exactly — ” Zuko’s rough voice was cut off by another guard. Sokka saw him stiffen, then relax. The guards that emerged weren’t the three that Sokka had chased away.

“Hey! There he is. We’re taking this prisoner.”

“What?” Sokka said, now annoyed. Everyone kept trying to take Zuko from him. “ _I_ have orders to take this prisoner.”

“Straight from the warden himself?” the guard asked, arms crossed. She cocked her head to the side, and from the corner of his eye, Sokka saw Zuko shake his head imperceptibly. The same as before: _Don’t give us up. No matter what._

“I uh... I guess no. Yours is more important,” Sokka said weakly, watching with a sour stomach as Zuko was led away. Again.

* * *

Zuko played docile until Sokka was out of sight. Sokka shouldn’t have to blow his cover for Zuko and he shouldn’t have to deal with all this either. When he was well removed, Zuko dug his heels in, gritting his teeth. He didn’t _want_ to meet with the warden, and he certainly didn’t want to get trapped with a handful of Fire Nation loyalists again.

At least it gave him a certain amount of satisfaction to kick out at the guards. “Where are you taking me?” he demanded, when pushed ahead.

They pushed him down a corridor he’d never been in before, it was higher than the cell blocks, likely close to the warden’s office. They entered a room that was sparse, nearly empty save for the sole chair. An interrogation room. If the warden thought he could torture information about the Avatar from Zuko, then he had another thing coming.

“What is this!” he shouted. “I didn't do anything wrong!” As a prisoner, that was. As a Fire Nation citizen and prince, he’d done a number of things wrong.

“Come on, Zuko,” came a droll voice. A figure stepped from the corner of the room, her expression annoyed. “We all know _that's_ a lie.”

“Mai.” Zuko’s stomach sank to see her.

It was so easy for Mai to slip into the shadows, to go unseen. Her expression remained dark. “Well restrain him and get out of here,” she snapped at the guards. “I can handle things from here.”

“All we have is rope, my lady,” one of the guards said, clearly unsure how to respond to someone of her station. A governor’s daughter, the warden’s niece. Mai commanded them with a sneer.

“Then use it, and if he burns it away, I’ll gut him. Now get _out_.”

“But the warden...”

“The warden? I am his _niece_. If you won’t leave me, then patrol the hallways. Certainly, you’ll hear if the traitor tries anything.”

This seemed to be an adequate compromise, and the guards scurried away from any more potential wrath. Zuko waited, hoping to see Mai’s expression clear when the guards left. Instead, she turned her glare to him.

“Mai, wait — ”

“Don’t ‘Mai’ me, Zuko.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Because I know you so well.”

“But how — ”

“The warden's my uncle, you idiot. He told me.”

“I thought he would send for my father, right away. Or Azula.” Zuko looked down. His arms were now bent behind him in an easy to burn away rope. But it would take precious moments to do so, and Mai was fast. It wouldn’t take long at all to gut him. “Why did he call for you?”

“I’m sure he plans to do all of that.” Her face twisted, voice lower now. “But I’ve played the jilted lover well, and my uncle knows that family comes first.”

Confusion crept over Zuko’s face. “But Mai. I thought we — ” He thought she understood. About _him_. About his predicament. That they were nothing more than friends, and couldn’t be, because she certainly deserved better.

“Zuko,” her voice snapped like a tree branch too heavy with snow. “We may not be lovers, but we _are_ friends.” She swept a piece of parchment from her sleeve. “All I get is a letter? You could have least looked me in the eye when you betrayed your country.”

“Mai, this is bigger than the Fire Nation. I never wanted to hurt you. But I have to do this to _save_ my country.”

“Save it? You're hurting your country!”

“That's not how I see it.”

Her eyes glinted. “You never _asked_ me, Zuko. You never _talked_ to me. You didn’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you,” Zuko said, voice hoarse. “You were safer this way. The less you knew, the less Azula would go after you. She can tell. She can _always_ tell.”

“And you think I don’t know how to manage her?” Mai shook her head, now angry. “Azula helped make me who I am. I let her think I put all the blame on my parents,” at this her expression twisted, and Zuko remembered her speech on the beach. “But I can’t even show affection towards my baby brother for fear of him becoming her collateral.

“The reality is,” she continued, “you don’t trust anyone. You think you have to fix everything yourself.”

“I don’t — ”

“ _You do_.”

The door clanked open as a guard, a new one, entered. He looked frantically to Mai. “Ma'am, there's a riot going on! I'm here to protect you!”

“I don't need any protection.”

Zuko nodded. “She really doesn’t.”

“I'm sorry, but I'm under direct orders from your uncle to make sure nothing happens.”

Zuko looked to Mai. He nodded, a small movement. Her eyes narrowed, a conversation happening between them silently. Finally, Mai sighed. An answer as much as any.

Fire burned the rope away to ash, and Zuko was moving, sidestepping from the chair and blowing fire towards the guard. His gamble was right, and the guard threw themselves at Mai. ‘Protecting’ the warden’s niece.

“Get off of me,” she snapped, but had she wanted to, Zuko knew she was fast enough to dart out the door after him. The door closed with a metallic groan, and Mai met him at the window, her eyes burning. She sold the scene, and he was grateful for it, but her eyes still shined with real anger. Another relationship he’d abused.

There was only so much time. The riot the guard mentioned must be part of the escape plan, and Zuko was nowhere near the yard. He was off plan, which wasn’t good at all. Zuko raced through the hallways, dodging a guard’s hand once, but he wasn’t pursued. Clearly _that one_ didn’t know his identity.

The yard was madness, but Zuko found Sokka.

“Zuko! Are you ok?” Zuko’s expression showed nothing, and Sokka’s gaze sat on his for too long. Then he looked to the others. “We need to grab the warden and get to the gondolas.”

That was the plan? Zuko frowned. “And how do we do that?”

“I'm not sure.”

Zuko groaned, thinking of Mai. If this didn’t work, they were all screwed. She would gut him herself. “I thought you had a plan!”

“I thought you told me it's okay not to think everything through!”

“Well, maybe not everything, but this is kind of important!” Zuko rubbed his forehead. He could probably get close to the warden, and if he didn’t know who Sokka was, maybe Sokka could impersonate a guard and nab him. But that would take time to set up, the distraction was happening now.

“Hey, uh, fellas,” Chit Sang said. “I think your girlfriend's taking care of it.”

Whose girlfriend did he think she was? Both Zuko and Sokka turned. Suki was already scurrying up a stone wall, her form impeccable. If Zuko didn’t know better, he’d think she was earth bending the stone to create handholds. She moved fast, soon tussling with guards as if they were nothing. Her hand-to-hand showed off moves that Zuko and Sokka couldn’t hope to have. The dispatched guards went flying, and then the warden’s neck was in her grasp. “I’ve got him! Now let's get out of here!”

“That’s some girl,” Hakoda said from behind them.

Zuko shifted uncomfortably. Sokka nodded.

Thanks to the chaos of the riot, they were nearly to the gondola before any guards realized what was happening. The guards who rushed them bended a swift wave of flame — directed at the guard who had seemingly double crossed them.

Zuko slammed into Sokka’s side, pushing him out of the way. It was actually _easy_ to wrap the weak flames of the guards with his own. His movements wrestled control from them, his forms outshone theirs. His firebending still felt different since his experience with the dragons. It felt _bigger_ as he flicked the flames away.

“Back off! We've got the warden!” He settled into an offensive stance, and when the guards saw the warden thrown over Chit Sang’s shoulder, they stood down. “Okay,” Zuko said. “Let’s go!”

Chit Sang went first, taking their prisoner. Zuko watched the rest of their rag tag party of escapees bound onto the gondola, then he pushed the lever hard, the gondola rumbling to life.

They were ruined if the guards reached them. Even now they were approaching, seeing a sitting duck and the fate of their warden unknown. Zuko kicked hard at the gondola’s lever. He kicked it again, though it hardly seemed affected. New licks of flame arced towards him and Zuko spun, kicking them away. Finally, on the next kick, the metal of the crank cracked.

There was no time to celebrate. The gondola was already farther than he wished for it to be, but staying behind was not an option.

Truthfully, Zuko had known explicitly what the Boiling Rock entailed before they left. The Avatar was already learning firebending, was already on the path. It wouldn’t have been inconceivable that this wasn’t a trip they all came back from, and Zuko never intended for Sokka to be the one left behind.

Behind him was the Fire Nation, his father, the sadistic staff of the Boiling Rock. In front of him was a gondola he needed to catch. Below him, boiling, unsurvivable water.

Zuko ran, faster than he’d ever run before. Then he jumped, and for a moment it seemed obvious that he’d catch the gondola — but it was moving, imperceptibly out of reach.

He would not make it.

The slap of Sokka’s hand around his wrist was loud, a snap that brought Zuko back to reality and out of the dreamy realization that he was possibly _moments from death_. Sokka’s other hand came down, bracing against his forearm, and Zuko reached up, grasping him in turn.

On the other end there must be help, Suki or Hakoda or one of the other escapees bracing Sokka so he didn’t go flying out, but hanging there in the sky, Zuko only saw Sokka bracing him.

Sokka hauled him into the gondola, “What was _that?”_

“I made it so they can’t follow us.”

Sokka’s smile was wide and vibrant. “Good thinking.”

“We’re almost home free!” Suki said.

Hakoda coughed, eyes gazing out the window. “Don’t start celebrating, we haven’t won yet. Who’s that?” He pointed toward the landing, and Zuko’s eyes widened when he saw what the chief saw.

“That’s bad. That’s my sister and her friend.”

“The Fire Princess?”

Zuko nodded grimly, and Hakoda nodded in kind.

They were too far from each other for Zuko to be sure, but he could still feel Azula’s eyes on him. Could imagine her expression: smug, curious, cruel. And as always, ingenious.

“Fuck,” Sokka said when Azula manipulated her firebending in such a way to propel her forward using a set of manacles and the gondola wire.

“Language,” Hakoda said, though his expression also said ‘ _fuck_ ’ as Ty Lee took to the tight rope with ease.

Beside them, Suki leaned on the gondola window, her expression hungry. “This is a rematch I've been waiting for.”

Yes — Zuko remembered now. While in the Fire Nation, Mai had told him a bit how she, Azula and Ty Lee had infiltrated the Earth Kingdom by taking the guise of a sect of warriors. How many years had General Iroh railed against Ba Sing Se’s walls, only for it to be taken down by decorative face paint?

“Me too,” Zuko said as they clamored to the top of the gondola, watching their targets get closer.

Ty Lee made first contact, and she too seemed eager for a rematch with Suki. She was quick with her chi-blocking attacks, but Suki, it seemed to Zuko, had put in the time reflecting on the technique. Ty Lee couldn’t get through her defensive maneuvers.

There was no time to be a spectator. Azula met him on the gondola with a spray of blue flame. This was harder for his flames to block, to control or command. But Zuko’s feet felt secure on the rickety roof. His horse stance was strong, his form practiced. The flames were swept to the side.

Sokka was at his side, glittering sword in hand. With the flames dispersed, he darted in and slashed quick with his sword; even Azula wasn’t immune to the slice of a blade. The two of them worked in tandem, like the push and pull of the tide. When Azula sent singeing flames, Zuko swept them to the wind and Sokka attacked with a lightness in his step.

They had her to the edge. Zuko rallied his flames, not thinking of what would happen if she fell from the gondola. There was no point, when she herself was eager to hold his face down in the boiling water herself. Fire licked his fist, and the flames rang true towards their target.

Azula didn’t deflect, instead she dodged, her steps catlike as she danced on the roof’s edge. A new wave of blue flame swept out encompassing the narrow roof, and Zuko could only protect Sokka on his side. Both Suki _and_ Ty Lee went flying, nearly toppling into the boiling waters below, though they gripped the curved roof tightly and pulled themselves up.

“Do it!” A voice called from below, and Zuko stiffened to hear the warden’s voice. “You _idiots. Cut the line!_ ”

“He wouldn’t,” Zuko said aloud, and for the moment, all four combatants hesitated.

Not even Azula was immune to boiling water.

Ty Lee jumped up, peering down at the landing. Her usually cheerful face was nervous. “They’re about to cut the line!”

“Then I suppose we go,” Azula said, smile sharp as she gestured toward a gondola headed down the other track. “Goodbye, Zuko.”

In an instant they were to safety, and Zuko followed Sokka and Suki into their main cabin. Below, guards were working hard to snap the coiled metal line. “They're cutting it now. The gondola's about to go — do we chance the other one?”

It would be a fight to even get on it.

“No, we’ll never make it if we go back,” Sokka said.

“Then we’re going to go _down_ , if we — ”

“Wait!” Suki said, staring down at the platform. “Someone’s stopped them!”

Below, a figure in dark grays and reds spun, and sharp knives pinned the guards down one by one. Mai turned her frowning face to the retreating gondola once before throwing herself back into scattering the guards.

“It’s Mai,” Zuko said, disbelieving.

“Mai? Your uh, friend?” asked Sokka.

Zuko didn’t respond, his thoughts were swirling. “Azula will hurt her.”

Sokka’s expression wavered. “What do we do?”

They’d gone back for Sokka’s loved ones. Now, Zuko’s was in danger. But he could already see Mai’s face if they appeared back at the Boiling Rock. She would be furious.

“We — we need to go,” he choked out.

“Come on,” Sokka urged him on, to follow the others off the gondola. They were free at least of the Boiling Rock, but they did not yet have a way out.

At the top of the volcano’s lip, Zuko stopped, facing the prison, and those they’d left behind.

“Zuko,” Sokka tried to pull him along again. “What are you doing?”

“My sister was on that island.”

“She sure was, buddy, and I’m sure she’d love to skin us alive. Let’s _go_.”

“I mean… she must have come here somehow.”

There were probably other crafts, either by air or ship for the warden, and for Mai or other high-ranking guards. But Zuko raced down the hill, eyes scanning the horizon until he saw it. “That’s it. That’s her ship.”

“Petty,” Sokka said. Then he smiled again, bright and open and wide. “I _love_ it.”

* * *

The ship handled like a dream, only the best for the Fire Nation’s princess. It was a far cry from the old sea clankers Zuko had once manned. When he was first banished, he’d barked orders to his men, directed where the ship would go. At the time, at the tender age of banished-at-thirteen, Zuko hadn’t been much for instruction, but he’d still learned to sail, and the man who’d taught him also knew air ships.

They weren’t so different.

“ _Zuko_ ,” Sokka said, entering the navigation deck. “There you are. You almost flipped us before — do you know how to fly this thing?”

It wasn’t _much_ different.

“I’m flying it, aren’t I?”

There was an edge to his voice, but not the dripping antagonism he’d spewed in Ba Sing Se. Sokka wasn’t affected. “Barely.”

“ _Shut up_.”

Sokka laughed, doing a lap around the control room. Whatever he saw impressed him. Zuko knew Sokka was… science minded? Mechanically interested?

“It would be easier with more fire benders,” Zuko said. “I need to go and refresh the tanks with Chit Sang.” He also stifled a yawn. It had been a very long day, and though the ship was faster than the balloon, it would still take a few hours to reach the temple.

“Zuko,” Sokka said, in a tone of voice that made him wary. What was he thinking of? The Boiling Rock? Mai’s fate? Zuko hounded by the guards? “I want to thank you.”

“Oh.” Zuko shifted, hands still on the steering gauge. The course was set, he didn’t need to hold onto it, but if he weren’t busy, then it would be polite to turn and face Sokka. He would rather not. “Thanks.”

“And I also want to apologize.”

“You don’t have to,” Zuko said automatically.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to apologize for.”

Zuko shook his head. “It’s fine. And probably deserved.”

“No,” Sokka was frowning now. He pushed forward to stand beside Zuko, making it impossible not to turn and face him. “You… you hurt me, and you betrayed us.” Zuko winced. “But that didn’t give me the right to — ” Sokka hunted for the words. “To punish you. I’m not that sort of guy, or I thought I wasn’t. You _have_ proven yourself, and if I’m not kidding myself, you did it before today. If we… do, you know...”

Zuko’s face flamed. The Air Temple gardens, hand-to-hand. Sokka taking, but not willing to give. Yes, Zuko remembered. Yes, Zuko’s stomach churned at the thought of _talking_ about it, aloud with words. “Sparring?”

“Er, yeah. If we _do_ , then it shouldn’t be like that.”

Zuko nodded slowly. “But… we won’t, will we? Sokka, Suki’s here…”

Saying it aloud made him realize how miserable the thought made him. And he wasn’t even sure _why_. Zuko had never had a real relationship. He’d faked it with Mai, it had been an unfortunate and then uncomfortable fling with Jet. With Sokka in Ba Sing Se, it had been ruse. He’d put no thought into it, because doing so had been inconceivable at the time. Zuko didn’t know what a relationship _was_ , just that Sokka was, maybe, already in one.

“I know — ” Sokka was saying when the door opened.

“Sokka?” Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, said as he entered the deck. Zuko and Sokka both flung apart, having grown too close as the conversation went on.

“Uh, dad. Dad! Welcome, dad, this is Zuko. I told you about him? I guess you haven’t been properly introduced.”

“What did you say?” Zuko said, vaguely horrified, and highly mortified. The last thing he wanted was the chief to know what he wanted from Sokka.

Sokka didn’t look at him, only at his father, sending a spike of anxiety through Zuko. He knew the Fire Nation’s stance towards people like him. He knew being sexually… other… was almost considered popular in some Earth Kingdom cities. He had _no_ idea how things were in the Water Tribes.

“Surprisingly, only good things,” Hakoda said. He nodded his head, barely a bow.

It was technically extremely rude. Zuko was theoretically still the prince of the Fire Nation, he had no idea if he had been formally disowned. The murder Azula and his father hoped for would take care of the paperwork. But in the moment, he felt relieved that Hakoda did not treat him as such. It would be unbearable to have the chief of the tribe he’d attacked bow to him. Hesitantly, Zuko nodded his head slightly. Deeper than Hakoda’s, but his shoulders barely dipped.

Any more would be patronizing.

Looking up, he felt he made the right move.

“Good work out there, kid.” Hakoda seemed to realize how strange this was, but the smiling man powered through. It made Zuko uncomfortable. It made him think of his own father. “And nice flying, I think we’re upright now.”

Zuko went still. Quiet for a beat too long. By the time he realized it was a joke, Sokka was already laughing, loud and fake, to try and cover the gaff on Zuko’s part.

“Oh. Yes. Upright and en route. Sir.”

This was horrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for threat of sexual violence from guards to Zuko.  
> To skip the scene, read until: Sokka was halfway there when he passed the corridor for an unused wing. He heard voices.  
> Control-F to start again at: Zuko was quiet when he stood.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was just rising, just beginning to stir the fire in Zuko’s chest, when they attempted to dock the Fire Nation airship. It wasn’t easy, not when the Western Air Temples were built long before the Fire Nation’s steel technologies. Aang would kill them if they scraped off any of the decorative relief carvings, but Zuko was impressed when they didn’t take out the whole plateau.

“What are you doing in this thing?” Katara found them first, the others not far behind her. “What happened to the war balloon?”

“Oh. It was, uh, destroyed.”

“Sounds like a crazy fishing trip,” Aang said appreciatively.

“Did you at least catch a lot? I’m tired of eating _roots_ ,” Toph griped, clearly directed at Katara.

Zuko was still tired. “What?”

“That’s the note I left them. Pretty good, right?” Sokka exited the ship, clapping a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. Zuko didn’t miss the way Katara’s curious eyes fell on the two of them. When they’d left, they’d practically been enemies.

“You told them we went on a... multi-day fishing trip?”

“So, what _did_ you do?” Katara snapped, worry rising. There was a Fire Nation airship docked at their temple — it was appropriate to think they’d done something insurmountably foolish.

Because they _had._

“We broke into a highly defended, inescapable, high-security Fire Nation prison,” Zuko said, voice dry. “It’s in the middle of an active volcano.”

“Sokka,” Katara began, but her voice cut off when Hakoda descended the ramp.

“Katara,” Sokka gestured widely to their father and those filing off after him. “I bring you _dad_! And Suki! And, uh, _new friends_.”

Whatever else Katara wanted to say, it was swallowed up in a hug from her father. Hakoda wrapped his daughter in his arms and hugged her close, then one arm opened, beckoning Sokka in too. The family reunion was sweet, heart-wrenching, alien.

Zuko jumped when Suki spoke at his side. “Mind showing me around?” She looked tired too. He wondered how long she’d been at the Boiling Rock. Had they shipped her so soon after their victory in Ba Sing Se, or was she later separated from her group? If it was the first, she’d been there long enough.

The worst part of it all was that not only was Suki good in a fight, she was also seemingly a good person.

So, she and Sokka made sense, was all.

* * *

Their encampment at The Western Air Temple gained new life after Sokka and Zuko returned. Sokka was grateful to have his father to bounce ideas off of and knowing Suki was safe allowed him to sleep without guilt. As the days passed, the most important element of their plan remained the same: Aang needed to learn firebending. If that meant holing up in the temple until then, then they were defended well enough.

It seemed like Zuko was always in training mode. Sometimes firebending took them to the woods, sometimes it took them to meditation rooms in the temple. Sometimes, it took them to the open Air Temple courtyards where their voices would bounce across the vista.

“ _More Fire Squats.”_

 _“Yes, Sifu Hotman_!”

“ _Do. Not. Call. Me. That!_ ”

It was kind of funny, but, it also seemed excessive. Aang’s need to learn firebending was no joke, but they also barely stopped to eat for need of firebending training. Sokka stayed busy himself, but, since they’d returned from the Boiling Rock, he also thought…

Well, that maybe the two of them could spar.

“What?” Zuko asked, a spoonful of stew halfway to his mouth.

“You know, swords. No one else here really uses them. I wanted to take you up on sparring.” The words came out smoothly, with no allusion to what sparring had turned into before. And disregarding that, Sokka wasn’t _lying._ He’d only trained with Master Piandao for a short while. The lessons and drills helped his form, but there was more to swordplay then beginner drills.

“Uh…” Zuko said, spoonful still in the air. “The Avatar’s firebending training?”

“ _I_ think he needs a break before you kill him,” Katara said from across the fire.

Beside her, Aang sighed in relief. “That’s what I’ve been telling him!”

“Then it’s decided, Aang gets a break,” Sokka said, while Toph scoffed.

“You’re all so _lenient_ with him,” she sniffed.

At the fire, Sokka’s father sat beside Katara, eating his own bowl of stew. It still seemed impossible that he was sitting there with him. After dinner often turned into story time, as Hakoda told his battle stories to a riveted audience. “Not a bad idea, Sokka. Staying sharp on all your skills is good for you boys. Well, _all_ of you,” he amended, looking to his daughter first, then the others gathered.

“That’s the plan,” Sokka said, showing off a bicep. “Did I tell you about the fire bending assassin my boomerang took out?” Sokka’s arms came up, providing a pantomime of the hit. He was proud of that, even if the thought of that day, and his first real kill, made him feel… different.

“Sounds like a story. Is he the one who gave you that scar?”

At Sokka’s look of confusion, Hakoda gestured towards his neck. “Don’t tell me that’s from a hot pan.” He meant the still pink scar from Zuko during their fight in the crystal catacombs. The day the Avatar was nearly killed for real. In the fight, Sokka had thought he’d had Zuko, but then the prince had twisted him, grappled him, held a flaming finger to his neck.

Sokka had broken free instead of being taken hostage, and he’d the scar to prove it.

“Can’t let them get too close,” Hakoda warned as Sokka stiffened. “But it looks like you took care of him before he could take care of you.”

“Uh — ”

“Who wants seconds!” Katara said loudly, and with a pang in his chest he knew she was distracting their father. From the corner of his eye, Sokka saw Zuko set his bowl down. Still mostly full.

* * *

They met in the gardens. Sokka found Zuko sitting on a ledge built to hold back the foliage from becoming too wild. Regardless, the foliage had become too wild. Fronds and vines and shoots sprung up from behind him, blanketing and covering him. He didn’t see Sokka yet, or at least, didn’t show that he knew. The dual dao swords sat beside him on the stone, and his hand reached up over his shoulder pulling on a fresh green shoot.

As Sokka approached, Zuko rolled the leaf between his fingers and brought it to his nose. He turned to face Sokka and said, “They’re tea leaves. The monks must have grown their own tea here.”

“Do you _like_ tea?”

“No,” Zuko said, then his expression clouded. “Maybe.”

“How can you _maybe_ like something?”

“I don’t know. I never _did_ like it.” Sokka thought of their evenings around the fire. Katara had always been the one to brew tea after dinner, and then without a bump in the road, Zuko had swooped in to take over tea brewing responsibilities. “I guess it reminds me of my uncle. And I do like _him_.”

Zuko stood from the ledge and collected his swords. He looked appreciatively at space sword at Sokka’s side. “Do you know how to use that?”

“Yes!” Sokka said, eyes narrowing. “I even forged it yourself.” At Zuko’s look, Sokka sniffed. “With a little help and direction from a master.”

Zuko nodded. “May I?”

Sokka idled, but after a moment unsheathed the sword and held it out for Zuko’s inspection. He took it with two hands, his fingers brushing Sokka’s as he grasped the hilt, using his other hand to press against the flat side of the sharp blade. “What kind of metal is it? I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“A meteorite fell. I collected it myself.” With a little help from his friends, Toph especially, but Sokka felt smug regardless.

“It’s impressive,” Zuko said, gesturing for Sokka to take it back. “I trained with straight swords for a time, but I took to these.”

“So, what, we go one on two?”

“Well, that would give me the advantage. If we do one on one, then you have the advantage from length alone.”

“I think I _do_ have the advantage length wise — ”

“No!” Zuko snapped, face promptly flaring a bright, pretty red. “We’re sparring. Ok?” He drew one of his swords. “And also, no, you don’t. Now, one sword or two? Your choice.” The other hand hovered over the second sword’s hilt.

“Two,” said Sokka, because he’d never been one to back down from a challenge.

Zuko drew his other sword, and then the fight was on. The prince hadn’t been lying to him, it was hard to break through the cyclone that was Zuko’s quick-moving blades. Without a shield and needing to rely on two-handed maneuvers, it was hard to attack without leaving himself wide open.

He needed to get Zuko down to one sword.

Neither swordsman was going for blood, but Zuko still managed to push him back with pretty arcs from his swords. Sokka sidestepped around a clutch of foliage and called out, “Watch out for the tea!” while Zuko groaned. Sokka used the opening to plunge his sword forward, but it was caught between the two blades.

Zuko’s golden eyes were narrowed and focused, his jaw tight as his arms tightened on the grip of his swords. He twisted them, and Sokka’s sword almost flew from his hands, but he tightened his grip, taking a gamble and darting forward.

Space sword was angled so the pommel would guard his wrists, but if this were a real battle, he’d be in danger. Probably dead, in fact. But it wasn’t, so he pushed hard, the pommel of his sword clashing against Zuko’s as one blade went flying.

“Asshole,” they said at the same time, and then Zuko was chopping at him, with the finesse of a woodsman. Sokka yelped, his footwork quick as it carried him backwards — he needed to remember that _he_ had the advantage. His sword was longer, no double entendre meant. At the moment.

Sweat pooled on his body, and he could see, feel even, the focus in Zuko’s. His steps were quick and measured, and when he attacked, he attacked hard, almost recklessly. Seeming to trust that his sword would be quick enough and all of his body parts would be attached afterwards. Sokka needed to use his surroundings to his advantage.

He yelped again, nearly tripping backwards over the chasm where only fog and birds ventured. Zuko’s hand snapped out, catching him by the tunic and dragging him from the chasm. Space sword glinted as it arced up, hovering between their throats.

“I win,” he said smugly, while Zuko’s mouth hung open. His eyes narrowed.

“Are you kidding me? You could have fallen!”

“I wouldn’t have fallen!” When Zuko’s eyes remained narrowed, Sokka grinned. “I _probably_ would have caught myself. But I knew you’d catch me.”

Zuko snorted, steam streaming from his nose. His shoulders lowered, though he did not let Sokka go. Space sword still hung between them.

Golden eyes met Sokka’s. Then they trailed down, over nose, over lips, then down further, to the space where Sokka knew his firebending scar gleamed pink on his dark skin. “I hadn’t meant to burn you,” he admitted. “I didn’t think you’d… _move_.”

Sokka snorted. “Yeah. You thought my sister would stand down. You didn’t realize _I_ wouldn’t let her think she was the reason we failed.”

Seeming to understand, Zuko nodded. Then he bent forward, and Sokka thought he was going to kiss him. Instead, his neck pressed gently against space sword’s edge. When he backed off, a slim edge of red showed on Zuko’s neck. “Even?”

“Why are you so damn crazy?” Sokka snapped, withdrawing and sheathing his sword. He crowded Zuko back, to sit again on the low stone wall. Katara would kill him for not washing his hands first when they were both so sweaty, but he untied one of the cloth bindings on his forearms, bunched the fabric and pressed it against Zuko’s neck.

“Sorry,” Zuko said, voice gravely. “It seemed like a good idea in the moment.”

“Well, leave the plans to me,” Sokka chastised, holding the cloth against the minor wound. He focused on that, not on Zuko’s eyes.

Otherwise, he’d move too fast — again.

* * *

“Sokka!” Suki called as he stepped lightly through the woods near the air temple. It was late in the afternoon and dusk wasn’t far off, an optimal time to hunt anything by land or air. Suki had shed her prison clothes shortly after she arrived. If Sokka wasn’t mistaken, he was fairly certain she and Zuko had burned them up together. She still wore red though, leftovers from Katara when they’d infiltrated the Fire Nation countryside. She didn’t seem bothered by them.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, lips already curled in a smile.

Sokka smiled back and hoped it didn’t look shaky. “Of course, yeah. How good are you with snares?”

“‘How good am I at snares?’” she mimicked in a whiny tone, but her mirth was still visible. “C’mon, let’s find something alive to cook. I can’t eat radish stew one more night.”

Together they set snares, and at the edge of a river Sokka bent reeds and sticks and threaded them with a small net. It was nice to work with his hands in a way that didn’t involve other people. What was off though, was there was no reason he shouldn’t want to be all over Suki.

If she noticed, she said nothing, instead gesturing for him to follow when she noticed one of their snares had taken. It was one of the things he liked about Suki. Katara had never shown much of an interest in hunting, and while she liked seal jerky and whale meat as much as the next person, she was less interested in the steps taken to ensure there was meat on the table. Aang, while he no longer tried to get Sokka to convert to his dietary restrictions, could also never be a hunter.

Suki was as deliberate as she ever was, and she strung the now limp creature from her belt.

It wasn’t so bad a haul, between the snared hoppers, a handful of fish, and the strange bird Suki managed to shoot down with a rock and a sling shot she’d fashioned. They had enough to feed the meat eaters, even the extra from the prison.

Sokka’s mind was effectively off the problems it had been mulling over for days now, which is why he started when Suki asked, “So. What’s wrong?”

“What?”

She must have been waiting to lull him into a false sense of security. Her expression was easygoing, not worried, just curious. “Well,” she said, making sure the new feathered beast was attached to her belt, “I’ll be honest. You haven’t been all over me, which,” she smiled wide, “is _hard_ from what I remember. So. What’s going on with you?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Sokka stammered, taking a step forward to take her wrist. “Oh, ew,” he muttered when he instead grabbed a fist full of feathers. When he found her hand, he gripped it tight. But he did not lean in to kiss her.

“Uh huh.” Suki said. Her hand squeezed back. “I think we should talk about it.”

Inside Sokka’s head, alarm bells went off. _Talk_ about it? He’d thought he’d been so clever and smooth the first time he’d talked about things like this with Suki. Upon reflection, it had been more like pulling teeth. He was lucky she’d been so patient under the moon at the Serpent’s Pass.

“I, uh,” he started eloquently. “Are you still with Tao?”

Suki blinked. “I don’t know. She’s not here.”

He still remembered how surprised he’d been, when he’d gone in to kiss Suki before starting on the pass. She was incredible; a strong warrior, with a will of iron. And she was his first crush. After what had happened at the Northern Water Tribe, he’d been desperate for something, anything stable.

 _Let’s check in_ , she’d said, a hand on his shoulder. Suki took things like that very seriously, which was good, because Sokka felt like a cat-bull in a china shop when it came to his love life.

They’d settled on the on- and off- elements of their relationship before splitting up at Kyoshi Island. Those first few days hadn’t been enough to set things in stone, and it had been good. Because Sokka wouldn’t trade what he’d had with Yue, even if it was brief, for anything in the world. And it gave Suki the opportunity to meet Tao, whom she’d told him about while they sat shoulder to shoulder under the moon on the path. In turn, he’d talked about Yue. Slowly at first, then faster.

“Let’s check in,” Sokka said instead. Like it was code, and Suki nodded, serious. “What if she were? Would you be together?”

“Maybe,” Suki said. “But I don’t know when I’ll be back that way. She meant a lot to me. Sokka, did you meet someone?”

“Uh, maybe. Maybe, yes?”

“Ok,” Suki said patiently. “And if they were here, how would you feel?”

 _If_ they were here. Sokka inwardly groaned. “Awkward.”

“Ok. Why?”

“Because I _really_ care about you!” Sokka said, before realizing he’d only said _cared_.

“I care about you too. When you were with them, what did you think about me?”

“Mostly about how great you are, and awesome, and also hot,” Sokka tried to grin, but it was weak. “I thought it was good we had this arrangement.”

“But you didn’t feel… awkward?”

Sokka had felt a lot of things in Ba Sing Se. He probably should have felt more awkward. Had he slowed down and really _thought_ about what he had been doing — sleeping with the enemy, an enemy with unknown objectives — he probably would have felt awkward. About the arrangement. About the under-the-belt equipment. About how he felt about Zuko in comparison to Suki.

Instead, he’d mostly felt… _hungry_.

“No. I guess not. I was… usually, uh, occupied.”

Suki snorted. “Ok. Then it sounds like what you feel for this person might be a one-relationship kind of feeling. Sound right?”

Maybe. Probably. Zuko hadn’t seemed to be phased by his explanation in Ba Sing Se. He sighed, and it felt like every speck of air fled his lungs before he could muster up breathing again. “How are you ok with this? I’m basically breaking up with you.”

“Excuse me,” Suki said, one hand on her hip. “Let’s be sure who’s breaking up with who.”

Sokka’s chest felt uncomfortably tight, and the laugh that bubbled up was weak. “I’ve uh, never broken up with or been broken up with anyone before though. Yue… well, everything that happened in the north happened. And… yeah. Are things going to be awkward now?”

“Probably.” Suki shrugged. It made the dead animals flap at her sides. “But we’ll be fine. Get your man, and all that.”

“Thanks, Suki,” Sokka said. It was a relief, a bone deep relief to know how she felt, and also —

Wait.

“ _Wait_ ,” Sokka said, voice rising. “Guy?” He laughed. “Who said anything about a guy?”

Maybe Suki would have looked more stoic in her traditional makeup. Instead, her eyes widened, her mouth suddenly grim. Then she frowned and cursed, “ _Shit_.”

“Suki, I’m not — ”

Suki closed her eyes, still frowning. “No, I meant…” When her eyes opened, they were intent. “Ok, screw it. It’s Zuko, right?”

“Wha _aaaat_?” Sokka said, voice rising a few octaves. “I don’t… know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap,” Suki snapped. Gone was nice Suki, smiling Suki, supportive Suki. Now she was focused. Tough love Suki. Much scarier Suki. “Zuko. Yes or no?”

“Er — _maybe_?”

“Sokka!”

“Maybe yes!” Sokka finally yelled, fully embarrassed, and also, strangely nervous. “Is that okay?”

“Why are you asking _me_? Shouldn’t you ask _him_?”

“No — I mean, _you know_. Fire Nation prince, burned down your village, his actions led to Aang… well,” Sokka felt fairly sobered. “Well, it just sucks.”

Suki also looked sobered up. “He’s given me no reason to think he’s a bad ally. But, Sokka, it’s up to _you_. Do you forgive him for being… all of those very notable things?”

“I think so. I really don’t think I could have rescued you or dad without him.” Suki didn’t speak. “This time, I really do think he’s sorry.”

“This time?”

“Spirits above,” Sokka muttered, looking up to the treetops. They really needed to get their kills back to the temple, cleaned and cooking. Instead, for the moment, he found himself tripping over what happened in Ba Sing Se. He told Suki more than he’d ever told Katara. It went beyond the Crystal Caverns, to tea shops and noodle vendors and aimless walks. And nights together, culminating in seeing Zuko kiss someone _else_. Wanting that, and then _having_ it, because Zuko wanted it too.

It had still been complicated. There were still parts and elements and feelings that Sokka didn’t understand. It hadn’t always been kind, but Sokka wanted to _try_ it. To try it again.

Suki sighed, “Usually I’d offer to, you know, kick his ass.” Moving forward, she looped her arm with his as they slowly made their way back to the temple. “But that doesn’t seem appropriate when you’re _pining_.”

“I’m not _pining_.”

“You are. And it’s _really_ embarrassing.” She hip-checked him, causing a cloud of feathers which made them both curse. Then, they were running back to the temple. Sokka felt lighter.

* * *

Being a companion to the Avatar hadn’t become _easier_ for Zuko, it just slowly became more bearable. Growing up, Zuko had been an heir to the throne behind his cousin Lu Ten. He’d studied, perhaps not well, not with the same fervor that Azula did, but that was still his focus. His _life’s purpose_. Being an important aristocrat. Training and preparing and honing his skill.

Not tidying a campsite.

That was also something he had never really needed to do, even when he was banished. On the ship, Zuko had practiced his own minor tyranny on the men that served under him, which uncle had tidied up when the men became too furious at their young, frustrating leader. As a prince, Zuko had wanted for little. On the road, Zuko had learned firsthand that food came from work, that shelter came from work — that being clean and organized was more than ordering someone to do it for you.

“You _don’t_ have to,” Katara said, exasperated and clearly annoyed.

“No, it’s fine,” Zuko said, collecting dishes quickly, hands darting before she could collect them herself.

“Ok,” she snapped, one hand going to her hip. “I get that you’re trying to be helpful, I even appreciate the help. But I’m a _water_ bender.” As she moved her hands, water from the fountain rose up, rushed towards Zuko in streams. He almost panicked, dropped his items, mistaking the whips for an attack — but the water rushed over his hands, bubbling up and sweeping the cups and cutlery from him.

“Collect firewood or sweep if you want to be useful. Or bring your sleeping bag to the fountain. We all sleep here anyway.”

Zuko felt touched by the invitation. But that didn’t clear up… “Ok, but between firewood or sweeping, which do you want — ”

Katara’s eyebrow twitched.

“She’s gonna blow,” Toph said lazily, from where she sat sprawled by the fountain. Toph was not trying to help.

As if on cue, perhaps coming to his daughter’s rescue, Hakoda arrived on the scene. One eye was raised as he surveyed the scene: the heated tempers, Zuko mildly splashed. Katara heaved a sigh of relief when he said, “Son?” Zuko looked around for Sokka, and realized with a strange jolt that Hakoda meant _him_. The term ‘son’ came so easily to the man as a term for young men. “Zuko,” the chief clarified, “do you mind showing me around the controls of that ship?”

Zuko’s spine straightened and he nodded sharply. Katara would have some peace, Toph wouldn’t have a show. Somewhere the Avatar was hiding from him after a morning of fast-moving fire katas. Zuko followed Hakoda from the fountain through the winding hallways down to the courtyard where they’d tried docking the ship.

“Usually, I uh, park better.” Zuko didn’t know what else to say. What was there to expect from Chief Hakoda of the Water Tribe? There was no way the other man didn’t know who Zuko was, or more importantly, what he’d done to the little village in the south. He wondered how much Katara and Sokka had shared with their father. Did Hakoda know he’d used Katara’s necklace to track them down? That he’d used _the necklace Hakoda had carved for his dead wife_ to track and hunt them?

“I’m no art conservator,” the older man said. His voice was low and graveled and... father-y, for lack of a better word. It made Zuko uncomfortable. Hakoda gestured towards the stone wall that the ship had scraped against, sending carved stone crumbling down. “How’d the Avatar take it?”

“He had his complaints.” At Hakoda’s quiet, Zuko carried on, “I had him do fifty fire squats.”

That garnered a laugh. “We’re lucky,” he said lightly, but the lightness hid probing. “The Avatar needs a firebending teacher. When he needed one, you popped up.”

Zuko stiffened, worry coiling in his gut. And also… _annoyance_. How long would he be proving himself to the Avatar and his allies? Zuko knew, reasonably, it may be forever. But after escaping from the Boiling Rock, Sokka had said…

Sokka had said he’d proven himself.

“Well,” he said lowly. “Had I any sense, I would have joined the Avatar long before my sister killed him.”

Hakoda’s face gave no tell, no twitch of the eye. Which meant he almost certainly knew that Zuko had been one of the players in Ba Sing Se. Clearly he knew what had befallen the Avatar there. No surprises between them.

But, if anyone were to speak harshly of Zuko, he’d rather it be himself.

“Better late than never, some men say.” Hakoda nodded towards the ship. “I captained a stolen Fire Nation ship for a while there. This thing handle anything like it?”

Zuko, unlike Hakoda, wasn’t as good at hiding his tells. His eyes widened. “You… stole a Fire Nation cruiser? _How?_ ”

“Kind of how we stole _this_ ship.” He gestured towards the air ship. “By thinking fast and being faster.”

“Sure,” Zuko said, surprise still etched on his features. “But then how’d you _keep_ it? Ships need to check _in_. There are patrols, and…”

Hakoda looked smug. “It’s one of life’s many mysteries. No one can keep up with the Water Tribe on the water. We can steer anything.” Even coal-fueled cruisers apparently.

“Whatever. Let’s see how you do in the air,” Zuko’s said, though then he worried. He was being too familiar. He was growing used to being snippy with the Avatar, his companions, with Sokka. Hakoda was different — a chief. It wouldn't do to be too impertinent.

But the man laughed, “Lead the way, son.” Zuko was uncertain how to proceed, but it wasn’t so bad showing off the levers and altitude gauges. Hakoda didn’t broadcast his own thoughts, instead displaying an easy countenance. One that was almost regal, but also offered a strange familiarity. Hakoda was not a leader that Zuko recognized, he didn’t have the same frightening power and near omniscience his father had always worn, like his father Azulon before him.

In the bowels of the ship, Zuko went into further detail than offered on their flight from the Boiling Rock. It helped to have a Fire Bender, but really, you just shoveled coal. Even now a hot fire simmered in the bowels of the ship. It didn’t do the ship any good if it went ice cold; then it would take hours to heat and churn and finally to fly.

“Over here,” Zuko said, gesturing towards the boiler. “If it’s not cleaned, then — _watch out_.”

Hakoda’s hand gripped the wrong pipe, the one carrying hot, hot water. The man yelled, loud, his voice thundering and echoing and amplified in the metal hull. The curse was a surprise coming from the otherwise even-tempered man. Zuko wasn’t expecting to step backwards, to crash his back into the metal of the ship. His hands were held before him, fire nearly dripping from them in his defensive stance.

“ _Shit_ ,” Hakoda said, looking at his hand, “go grab — ” Then his eyes were on Zuko. Narrowed at first, because the firebending stance was obvious, but then at the unfortunate state of him. “Son. Stand down.”

 _Son_ didn’t help. But after a long moment, Zuko’s hands lowered and he realized they were shaking, just slightly. He didn’t trust himself to speak yet.

Hakoda’s hand must have hurt like a whole host of angry spirits. Still, he gripped his hurt hand’s wrist with the other, and kept his narrowed eyes on Zuko. “Been in a lot of battles?”

“Yes.”

“Fights and brawls and all that come with war?”

“...Yes.”

Hakoda nodded. Eyes still trained on Zuko, though now showing the wince of pain. Whatever he saw on Zuko, he didn’t like. Whatever he saw in his sloped shoulders and grim expression, he didn’t press. “Where does the Fire Nation keep its aid kits?”

Zuko looked around, then shook his head. “You need Katara’s healing. Come, she’ll, oh — ” Zuko stopped, now tense.

“What?”

“They’ll think I did it,” Zuko said, misery and worry overtaking the words. “Even if you say I didn’t, it will _look_ like I did. I don’t want Katara or — or _Sokka_ to think that — ”

Hakoda cut him off, eyes still focused on him. “Hold on. You’re _right_ , let’s go to Katara. And you’re wrong, this looks a lot like an accident and not like much else. Ok?”

Zuko knew scars, and the blisters developing on Hakoda’s hand did look an awful lot like a poorly placed grab. He breathed out slowly, realizing then how little breath he’d had.

“Ok.”

Katara, it turned out, was more concerned with her father’s clumsiness than she was with whether or not Zuko had tried to kill him. “You’re worse than Sokka!” she’d exclaimed, and Zuko watched with fascination as the two fell into a good-natured bickering match that ended with no real yelling, no real harm.

It was strange.

When all was said and done, the hand was nearly good as new, just bandaged for the time being. When Sokka and Suki returned from hunting, Sokka’s eyes narrowed in on the bandage. “Dad, what _bit you?”_

“Just the heart of a Fire Nation air ship,” the chief fake boasted. Then he shrugged. “Your friend Zuko was showing me around. Think your old man can pilot that thing?”

Sokka looked between them, and Zuko trained his face to stillness. “Well, the Water Tribe can helm _anything_ , so I don’t see why not.”

“Was Zuko a good teacher?” Aang asked cheerfully, then slyly added in, “I haven’t decided yet.”

Zuko’s squawk of disapproval was cut off by the chief. “Not too shabby.” Then he turned to Zuko, smiled easily, and Zuko knew what was coming. A joke, a gentle jab, the way Sokka and even Katara showed their friendship. “He’s not so bad, I might even like him. Just,” he winked, “don’t go near my daughter.”

Toph laughed the loudest, but Zuko didn’t have a chance to see how Sokka reacted. The little jab hadn’t made him feel better or more included, didn’t develop a budding camaraderie.

Zuko just worried.

* * *

Sleep had begun coming to Zuko easier since he’d made his decision in the Fire Nation Capital. He’d told his uncle he hadn’t known what to do, and the old man had shaken his head at him. _You do know_ , he’d said. And Zuko… did. Not in time to make the right decision, one that would have saved so much hurt, but in time to realize if he didn’t change _now_ , if he didn’t move _now_ , there would be little to save.

“Why are you here?” his father had asked in his bunker on the Day of Black Sun, while Zuko stood before him, his firebending about to be taken from him.

“I'm here to tell the truth,” Zuko had said. Zuko never made bad decisions in half-measures. If he was going to make this choice, if he was going to flee the capital, he wouldn’t do it under the cover of night. He’d announce himself first.

Never before had Zuko had leverage. The pleasure in telling his father that Azula had lied to him, that the Avatar was no doubt alive and on his way, was fulfilling in a way he had never truly experienced. Without bending, without the inherent power Ozai possessed, his father hadn’t seemed so frightening. Zuko had spoken his piece.

“For so long, all I wanted was for you to love me, to accept me. I thought it was my honor I wanted, but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who banished me just for talking out of turn.” Zuko’s voice had risen, broad swords shaking in his hands. “My father, who challenged me, a thirteen-year-old boy, to an Agni Kai. How could you possibly justify a duel with a child?”

“It was to teach you respect.”

“It was cruel! And it was wrong.”

His father’s voice was hissing, the fury Zuko had feared for so long focused on him. “Then you have learned nothing.”

Growing up, Zuko and Azula were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. That somehow, the war was their way of sharing their greatness with the rest of the world. In the bunker room, Zuko threw those teachings back at his father. “What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it! We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, then we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.”

“‘Peace and kindness?’” Ozai laughed. “Your uncle has gotten to you, hasn't he?”

He had, and Zuko was determined to beg for his forgiveness from _him_ if need be. Staying in the capitol and stopping his father was a bigger task than he could manage. And it was the Avatar’s duty. But Zuko would find him and help him, out on the battlefield.

“Coward!” his father spat. “You think you're brave enough to face me, but you'll only do it during the eclipse. If you have any real courage, you'll stick around until the sun comes out. Don't you want to know what happened to your mother?”

The words hit their target, and Zuko had stopped, his heartbeat rising. It was the question that had plagued him since that night he barely remembered. It was one of the reasons that he’d remained chained to a cruel family, hoping for any scrap of information.

“What happened that night?” he asked, voice striving to remain even.

Ozai smiled, all confidence and enjoyment. He _enjoyed_ this. “My father, Fire Lord Azulon, commanded me to do the unthinkable to _you_ , my own son…” His voice trailed off, and then he grinned. All teeth. “And I was going to _do it._ Your mother found out and swore she would protect you at any cost. She knew I wanted the throne and she proposed a plan, a plan in which I would become Fire Lord and your life would be spared.”

Fire Lord Ozai looked at Zuko with cruel curiosity. “Your mother did vicious, treasonous things that night. She knew the consequences and accepted them. For her treason, she was banished.”

“So,” Zuko said, breathlessly. This was more information than he’d ever been given. And it… it meant she may still… “She's alive?”

Ozai looked calm, even disinterested. “Perhaps. Of course, _now_ I realize that banishment is far too merciful a penalty for treason. You take after your _mother_ don’t you? There’s nothing of me or your grandfather, or spirits forbid, your great grandfather in your blood. For your treason, the penalty will be far steeper.”

It wasn’t a surprise when his father moved quick, like a snake. His movements were fluid, powerful, and the air crackled between them. Zuko felt strangely at peace as he reacted quickly to redirect the lightning.

But something went wrong.

Lightning raced up his arm, taking hold of him, rattling his heart, and he cried out.

Zuko woke with his heart pounding as the Western Air Temple thundered around him under attack. Those were fire blasts, no doubt coming from a fleet of airships.

“Grab what you can!” Katara shouted as Zuko stumbled upwards from his sleeping mat. He saw Sokka with his boomerang at attention, looking blearily about, but the Avatar had already fortified the courtyard and closed the barriers.

Even fortified, the temple shook around them. There was only so much abuse it could take, and rock shook from the ceiling falling to the ground.

“Watch out!” Zuko called, feet propelling him forward towards Katara, tackling her out of danger’s way.

“What are you _doing_?” she snapped. “I can evade rocks just _fine, Sifu Hotman!_ ”

“Don’t call me that!” he snapped back.

“Come on,” Toph called, where she and Haru had created an exit. “We can get out through here!”

The bison didn’t want to go and the Avatar tried his best to coax the beast along. In the calamity and confusion, their camp was a mess, but Zuko’s swords and other small trinkets were tossed onto the bison where Sokka tied them down. Zuko didn’t stop to help coax the bison, even if it did like him.

“Zuko, what are you doing?” the Avatar called, voice high. Surprisingly boyish.

“Go ahead! I'll hold them off.” Zuko said, slipping through the burgeoning cracks in the walls. “I think this is a family visit.” They had stolen her ship. There was no way Azula would rest until the score was even in her eyes.

It had always been like that. If Zuko got an extra sweet, then she needed a whole cake. If Zuko stole her airship, then she wouldn’t rest until she’d claimed their lives.

Zuko’s feet knew what to do, and they carried him through bomb blasts and heavy smoke. His own firebending rose up like an old friend — it had never felt like that before. So earnest and wanting and _powerful_. The blast burst forth from his hands, slamming into one of the ships. It was still up, but he could see the effect. He could dismantle them all if not for someone standing in his way.

When Azula revealed herself atop the lead ship, her smile was too wide. Too strained. Too _eager_.

“What are you doing here?” he called. How long could she be distracted?

“You mean it's not obvious yet? I am about to celebrate becoming an only child!”

If Zuko hadn’t moved, he’d be cooked. He darted back towards the temple; if he could hide, take her by surprise, she may not see him coming. But ahead of him, the stone was wearing away, crumbling, and the plateau he was on wobbled dangerously.

Into the fire then. Pivoting, Zuko took a running start, snarling when Azula laughed at him from across the chasm. When he lifted off, it was pure terror. Nothing bolted him to the ground and no ground was visible beneath him. Fire burst from his hands, shooting him forward, and his feet found the slippery hull of an airship. The arcs of fire he sent toward Azula were burning hot — but his grip was slipping.

And then he was falling.

The sharp wind struck at his arms and face and eyes. Bursts of flame tried to slow him, but what saved him was gripping the rail of a passing ship. His wrists ached from the pressure, but more of him would ache if he kept falling, only to hit the ground below.

Above him, the bison burst from the rocky fortress they’d fashioned. The beast must have gotten its way and refused the tunnel. Foolish. Zuko had hoped the Avatar and his companions already had the luxury of escape. That’s what Zuko was _distracting_ them for.

He could only watch as the ship he balanced on rose. Then, almost lazily, Zuko’s ship came to Azula’s height, and her eyes flashed furiously as they landed on him.

She truly wished he’d fallen, he realized with a jolt. He had known this in some capacity, of course, but… the ferocity in her gaze, the jerkiness of her movements… Now, any fight with Azula was a battle to the death.

Zuko found his balance, and this time when he launched himself towards Azula he hit and rolled onto her ship. The column of fire she sent towards him burned up on contact with his own powerful blasts. Then they were moving quickly, footwork darting and arms dashing out flame arc after arc. Zuko moved on instinct, senses trained and alert. They were evenly matched, if only he could harness more firepower…

Zuko’s wrists came together, hands open in claws as fire pooled from within, nearly overtaking Azula if not for her own powerful tidal wave of blame. The two attacks clashed together with a huge plume of fire and smoke as the force threw Zuko back and from the ship.

Once again, the world tilted. Across from him, Azula had fallen too, and she floundered in the air as well. They were both doomed to a quick-coming death.

With a roar, the Avatar’s bison swooped down, trying to maintain pace with Zuko’s out-of-control plummet. With the bison there, the fall seemed to slow, everything seemed in slow motion as Sokka reached out, nearly out of out of the saddle, both arms reaching.

Hands clasped around Zuko’s forearms and Zuko’s hands locked around Sokka’s. Zuko hit the saddle and Sokka’s chest with a gasp of air, but immediately he was pushing himself up, leaning over the saddle to look. His voice felt strangely raspy as he watched Azula continue her plummet. “She’s — she’s not going to make it…” he murmured, watching in real time as their pointless feud came to an end.

Blue fire erupted, shooting Azula towards the rock wall. Somehow she braced herself.

“No,” he murmured, unsure if he was relieved or dismayed. “She made it.” He collapsed against the bison’s saddle, not yet realizing that Sokka’s hand still held tight to his arm.


	7. Chapter 7

The Air Temple had provided a peaceful sanctuary for the small team, a place to lay low, hunt, cook, sleep and train. Team Avatar probably should have left after _Zuko_ found them. Certainly, after the assassin had found them. If they could track the Avatar, then it was unsurprising that Azula eventually would too.

Being on the run again felt different to Zuko. He had been moving ever since he was thirteen years old, always searching for something he couldn’t hope to find. Then, after the debacle in the north, he had truly been on the run. From Azula, from his father, from anyone with allegiance to the Fire Nation.

It was different being on the run with the Avatar and his friends. With Sokka. There was no way to be sure that Hakoda and their other companions had gotten away on the airship but thinking otherwise wasn’t an option. And, they had made them quite the distraction after nearly sending the Fire Nation Princess plummeting to her death.

It happened during the evening, long after a meager dinner was cooked and cleaned up. The conversation had turned dark when they realized, in the commotion of being in exile, in running and hiding and having the days run together, they’d forgotten _what day it was_.

“Well, Sozin’s Comet obviously hasn’t passed,” Toph said. “I think we’d notice if the world was, you know, _on fire_.”

“Ha,” Zuko said, but he was watching Sokka riffle through the parchments and scrolls he kept in his satchel.

“It’s not far off,” Sokka’s papers crinkled as he looked over his maps. “We can’t get complacent. Did we spend two or three days in that _cave_?”

“Two,” Suki said helpfully as she probed the fire with a stick.

“Ok, then I have it.” The day Sokka said was perfectly mundane, just another day to countdown until the end of the world, which made it odd when Sokka’s voice trailed off and Katara stood abruptly.

Her frown was deep, her arms hugging herself. She did not excuse herself, just turned on her heel, which made the Avatar chase after her.

“Uh,” Zuko said elegantly. “What’s with her?”

Sokka cringed, packing away his materials. “It’s the anniversary of the attack that took our mother. I’d leave her be for now. I’ll talk to her later.”

“That’s terrible,” Suki murmured.

It nagged at Zuko. “Can you... remember any details about the soldiers who raided your village?”

They had once talked about Sokka’s mother, about the day filled with soot-stained snow. They had been alone though, together in the crystal catacombs, and soon after, Zuko had betrayed them. Across the fire, Sokka frowned. “Why?”

“Do you remember what the lead ship looked like?”

Sokka’s frown remained — whether it was at Zuko or the memory, Zuko wasn’t sure. Finally, he said quietly. “Yeah… it was sea ravens. The main ship had flags with sea ravens on them.” Then he stood, “I’m going to go see if she’s killed Aang yet.”

Suki’s gray eyes gleamed in the firelight when they were alone. “What are you thinking?”

“Do you know who it was?” Toph asked.

“Maybe,” Zuko murmured, eyes on the fire. He needed to see Sokka’s map. But, “Maybe.”

* * *

In the morning, Katara’s mouth hung open when Zuko offered her his plan. Then her body went rigid, the tension high and tight, and he knew that she needed this. If avenging his mother were as simple as hunting down one Fire Nation officer, Zuko would do it in a heartbeat. As it were, his target was harder to hit. If the Avatar and his companions would help Zuko, then, Zuko felt honor bound in his own way to help Katara find her target.

She _and_ Sokka deserved it.

Appa was nearly packed, and the Avatar buzzed nervously around them. Eventually, Sokka did too.

“Ok, stop, _stop_ ,” the monk called. “I do understand, Katara. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people? But we need to seek justice.”

“Exactly, Aang,” Zuko said. “She needs this. This is about getting closure _and_ justice.”

“‘Justice cannot be parceled out on the edge of a sword!’” Aang said, likely quoting some pacifist code. “Katara, this _just_ sounds like revenge.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Maybe it is! Maybe that's what I need! Maybe that's what he deserves!”

“Katara,” Sokka said, voice low and soothing, surprisingly measured. “She was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right.”

Katara’s voice turned bitter and ice cold. “Then you didn't love her the way I did!”

“ _Katara!_ ” Sokka’s voice was hurt, expression strained.

“Now that I know he's out there... now that I know we can find him, I feel like I have no choice.”

As the Avatar dived once more into describing the act of forgiveness as a radical act, Zuko pulled Sokka aside. His voice pitched low, “Are you angry with me?”

Sokka took a moment to respond, eyes on the arguing benders standing in Appa’s shadow. “No,” he said finally, eyes turning to Zuko. “Maybe touched in a weird, psycho way.”

“Good. Because I want to borrow your map.”

Sokka sighed, crossing his arms. “Fine. But bring it back to me in one piece. And bring my _sister_ back in one piece.”

“I don’t think she needs my help for that.”

Sokka shook his head, his next exhalation was long. “Katara is fierce and strong, but she’s not a killer. Just… watch out for her.”

“Will you come?”

Sokka looked back over at his sister, still arguing, before pulling Zuko with him towards his tent. “No. I have my mission, and you’re probably right. She does need this.” At his tent, Sokka dug once more through his packs, pulling out notes, tactics, and various maps. When he found the one he wanted, he offered it to Zuko. “Be careful.”

Zuko nodded, turning to leave the tent when Sokka’s hand snagged his wrist and pulled him back. The kiss was sudden. Perhaps awkward, but not bad. They had kissed in Ba Sing Se, they had done _much more_ in Ba Sing Se, but here and now Zuko was a different person. No longer strictly fueled by anger and worry and an eagerness to appear assertive and self-assured.

His mouth opened, and he went hot when Sokka’s tongue pressed against his while a hand gripped tight at Zuko’s hip. After a beat, the uncertainty melted, and Zuko pressed in, eager for anything.

Then Sokka pulled away. His expression was unreadable. Neither angry nor relieved nor sultry nor funny. “Go. Or she’ll come looking for you.”

* * *

Firebending was a difficult element to master. It could be fickle, it could be short-tempered, it could be bright, happy, and dancing. It could burn. Forms and meditations were a first step for any budding fire bender; concentrating on energy manipulation helped to buffer against the scalding heat they could produce so near their skin.

Teachers and masters had urged him to respect firebending, to master and be mastered by it. Compared to the other elements, fire was pure, mighty. Firebending was the spark of life itself, and the other elements were no match.

Fire Lord Ozai had believed this and Princess Azula too. For a time, Zuko had believed this as well. That the circumstance of his birth made him _more_ than others. That having the firebending spark within him made him _better_.

Had he not had it… Once, long ago when Fire Lady Ursa still lived at the palace, Zuko squabbled with Azula over their firebending teacher. The princess called him a fool, Zuko defended him, and Fire Lord Ozai had slammed his fist on the table. Azula was talented. And talent made you _right_ , and the untalented had no right to argue with their sisters. He’d scared Zuko into submission, making sure he knew _why_ he was lucky to be born.

Firebending was a privilege, not a right, and one that made the Fire Nation stronger than the others.

Zuko hadn’t believed that for a long time. And it struck shockingly false when he watched Katara control a Fire Nation commander through his blood. It was sickening, the way the man’s body jerked against its wishes, the inhuman way the body lurched to compensate for gravity. His father had always considered waterbenders soft. Unlike firebenders, they could not conjure their element, they couldn’t _generate_ it. Firebending was part of firebenders. Waterbenders needed water.

Apparently, that wasn’t so.

The only reason the world wasn’t being terrorized by a Water Tribe tyrant was because none were so cruel to do what his father had done. If his father had _this_ ability…

The bison grumbled when they approached his hiding spot. Both were quiet, both still soaked by rain. The commander had not been the right man, but he’d pointed them to a small village where they found the man they looked for. Katara had made her decision when they found Yon Rha. He’d been pathetic at the end. Begging and crowing for his life. Katara made her choice, and perhaps it was the right one. The man wasn’t worth her time. Her energy. Her element.

Zuko broke the silence. “You’re actually pretty frightening.”

Katara’s expression flickered, but still she remained dour. “What do you mean ‘ _actually?’_ ”

He may not have been able to wrench a smile from her, but — he’d tried. “You’ve always been formidable, but the true extent is… frightening.”

“Ha,” she scoffed. “Prince Zuko called me ‘always formidable.’” Seated on the bison, she urged him up with a _yip yip_ , then said more quietly. “You wouldn’t have said that before.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re a master in your own right, and you’ve been studying for far less time than I have. You’re a natural.”

Katara was still not smiling, but she managed a sly look. “Are you trying to butter me up? Get me to return the compliment?”

“No,” Zuko chuckled. “I was never a natural.”

“You’re a good teacher to Aang.”

“...Thanks.” He was unsure if he believed it.

“Better than Toph.”

“Well... “ Zuko found he liked the short girl quite a bit, but, “That’s not hard to believe.” The wind chill spiked as they rose above cloud cover. “I guess, what I did want to ask was…” Zuko paused, unsure if this would be rude or warranted, if it would push Katara away, even after their journey together. “What was that? Before Yon Rha, with the replacement commander. It was…?”

“Bloodbending.”

Again, Zuko saw in his mind’s eye the way the man had _crumpled_ under control. “And you and the waterbenders haven’t used it to… end the war?”

“It’s not that simple,” Katara said, shaking her head, clearly agitated. “It’s not right. It’s cruel, and one false move and it could be deadly. It should never be used.”

“That’s honorable.” Katara sagged in her seat, the exhaustion seeming to creep over her. “Move over, I’ll make sure the bison doesn’t go off track.”

“I’m fine, I’ll just — ” Katara cut herself off, before sighing. She scooted backwards and the two traded places.

“I’m sorry if this didn’t make you feel better.”

Over his shoulder, he saw Katara lean backwards against the saddle. “Why did you want to make me feel better?”

“Sokka told me what happened.”

“How much did he tell you?” Her voice was curious, and it made Zuko shift uncomfortably.

“Enough. My father’s war is a terrible thing, and it allows cruel people to do cruel things. I thought you might want closure.”

“But, _why_?”

Zuko’s voice caught in his throat, uncertain. It had been easier to tell Sokka, now it was hard and he felt off balance. Which was unfortunate when he was balanced on a sky bison’s head. “Someday _I_ want closure... for my mother. Though I might never get it. I thought if I could offer _you_ that, then it was worth whatever it cost.”

Katara was silent in the night air, but when she sighed it sounded like release. “I don’t know if I feel _better_ ,” she finally said, “but thank you. Really. I never knew that my mother claimed she was the waterbender they were looking for. Knowing she did that…” Katara’s voice caught and Zuko remained silent, waiting for her to be ready. “I wanted to do it though. And it would have been so _easy_. I’m not sure why I couldn’t.”

“Karma will find him.”

“Maybe.” Above them, stars glistened. “But thank you for this. For everything. Aang needed a firebending teacher. I wasn’t sure if we could forgive you for… everything, but — thank you.”

“Glad to have a fan,” Zuko said dryly.

Katara, however, went quiet. “But did you do this for me? Or — ” her voice caught awkwardly in her throat. There wasn’t time for Zuko to stiffen in alarm before the rest came out in one breath, “Or did you do it for Sokka?”

“ _What?”_ Zuko turned, eyes narrowed and uncertain. “You don’t see him here, do you?”

“No. He’s _not_. But I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you. You should resolve it.”

Zuko was glad it was dark; it hid his rapidly reddening cheeks. “Katara, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she said, sounding flustered. Zuko kept his eyes on the route before them. “Just — it’s not, uh, _the weirdest_ thing. Ok? My father, years after what happened to my mother, found a new companion. Sokka and I treat him like an uncle.”

“Hm.” It was the most sound Zuko could make in the dark.

“Ok. Good talk.” If he weren’t mortified, it would be interesting how much she sounded like Sokka in that moment. “I’m going to get some rest. Don’t let Appa take a detour for grass.”

* * *

“You’re sure they won’t find us here?” Suki asked from where she sat, reclining in the sun.

“Yeah,” Katara agreed. They hadn’t spoken much since their trip. But the bison had been returned with Katara unharmed, and the Avatar had been relieved he wasn’t cohorting with bloodthirsty killers. Even if it raised the question — what would he do when faced with Fire Lord Ozai? In the meantime, while the Avatar decided whether or not he would complete his mission, Zuko had discovered the perfect place to lay low. “Doesn't it seem kind of weird that we're hiding from the Fire Lord in his own house?”

“I already told you,” Zuko said with a frown. The Avatar’s form was good today, but it was still juvenile. His firebending was nowhere near mastered. “This isn’t his ‘house,’ it’s a vacation estate. My father hasn't come here since our family was actually happy — _if_ we ever were.” The more Zuko reflected, the less certain he was that his father had been anything but an egomaniac.

He sighed. Not all the memories here were happy, anyway, “That was a long time ago, the estate isn’t well kept, and it would need a season of work before he’d grace it with his presence. We’re safe. It's the last place anyone would think to look for us.”

“What about your sister?” Suki asked.

Behind him, Aang’s footwork was off, and he called out to correct it. “Straighten your back!” To the others, he said: “She wouldn’t come back, and I don’t think she’d think I would, either.”

“Fair enough,” Toph said. “Can’t complain about a roof over our heads.”

“Aang,” Zuko snapped. “Paws up! Your tiger-shark pose is all wrong.”

Behind him, the girls laughed. “ _Paws_ ,” Suki snickered.

“That’s what they look like! _Ugh_.” To Aang he said, “Did you always have a group of hecklers when you were learning a new form of bending?”

“Uhh,” Aang said, balancing on one foot, his ‘paws’ up in the air. “I guess. First it was just Sokka, then it was Sokka _and_ Katara when Toph was teaching me. I guess it just keeps growing!”

“Great,” Zuko griped.

“Hey!” From across the estate’s courtyard, a voice shouted. The sudden call roused the entire group into battle stances, before they realized it was Sokka.

“ _Sokka_ ,” Katara chided, I almost waterbended your face off. Don’t surprise us like that when we’re _hiding in the Fire Lord’s House_.”

“I told you. It’s not his house — “ Zuko began grumbling.

“Zuko said they’d never look here,” Sokka said, then brought out a piece of parchment from the bag of supplies he’d bought in town. “But wait, you guys are not gonna believe this. There's a play about us!”

“What?” Katara frowned. “How is that possible?”

“It’s _propaganda_ ,” Zuko said. “This nation is full of it.”

“Hush,” Sokka waved a hand at them. “Listen to this... ‘ _The Boy in the Iceberg_ is a new production from acclaimed playwright Pu-on Tim, who scoured the globe gathering information on the Avatar, from the icy South Pole to the heart of Ba Sing Se. His sources include singing nomads, pirates, prisoners of war, and a surprisingly knowledgeable merchant of cabbage.’”

Suki came to Sokka’s elbow, looking over his shoulder at the parchment. “Huh. ‘Brought to you by the critically acclaimed Ember Island Players.’"

Zuko rolled his eyes. “My mother used to take us to see them. They butchered _Love Amongst the Dragons_ every year.”

“‘ _Love Amongst the Dragons_?’” Toph needled.

“It’s good!” Zuko’s face was already reddening. “With a good troupe, it’s — it’s very good, ok?”

Now Katara had arrived to look over the flyer. “Sokka, do you really think it's a good idea for us to attend a play about ourselves?”

“Why not?” her brother asked, voice cloying — desperate. “A night at the theater? This is the kind of wacky time-wasting nonsense I've been missing.”

“We don’t have time to _waste time_.”

“I don’t know, Katara,” Aang said, he was still holding his pose. ‘Paws’ still up. “I’d really love a wacky time-wasting adventure.”

Zuko was technically on team ‘lay low and do your fire katas,’ but they were quickly outvoted by the rest of the group. Which is how Zuko found himself walking the old hallways of the manor while the others put on their Fire Nation finest.

The house could protect them from the elements, but it was otherwise in disrepair. Paper on the walls was slowly peeling back, some of the pottery was broken. It was a miracle the place hadn’t been totally ransacked. The fear of the Fire Lord’s wrath, and the governor in his stead, must have kept them away.

How many times had he and Azula nearly knocked down the vase now in front of him? Vividly, he could remember chasing her through hallways, through the courtyard and across the beach. So many times this vase had nearly tumbled. They would have been in so much trouble. As it was, it laid broken on the ground, perhaps from a raccoon-bat nesting in the rafters.

“Zuko!”

He straightened up, leaving the shards on the ground as he turned to face Sokka.

“We’re getting ready to leave, come on.”

Zuko was still getting used to seeing his companions in Fire Nation red. Sokka looked — well, not Fire Nation. Never Fire Nation, with his brilliant blue eyes and rich-toned skin. But in the red he looked… Zuko cleared his throat to distract from that.

“I’m not going. I’ll stay behind.”

“What? Why?”

For a million reasons. He didn’t want to see parody propaganda of his life. He hadn’t been to the theater since attending with his mother. And also, “I was the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. Sokka, I have an… _enormous_ and recognizable scar on my face.”

“Well!” Sokka said, “Ok, yes. But wear a hood! I’ll buy your ticket.”

Zuko frowned. “Even if I wear a hood… I have an enormous and recognizable scar on my face.”

“So? Two people will, you and your actor.” Now, Zuko cringed. “If anyone asks, you’re the understudy.”

If possible, Zuko cringed _more_. “It’s fine, Sokka.”

“C’mon,” Sokka prodded. “Go out with me?”

“Really, I don’t — wait.” Zuko frowned. “What?”

“Yeah.” Sokka’s smile was small. “There’s been… no time. And this might be the least night we can do something like this. And I… never returned the favor.”

“Which one?” Zuko said, frowning. “I’ve done you very few favors.”

“Dinner.”

Instantly, Zuko could smell it. Ground spices alighting in the air, the smell when ingredients combined just right. The perfect texture of a quickly boiled fresh noodle. Sokka had come to him in Ba Sing Se, and it had been — well, almost a date. If dinner and fucking was a date, which… it probably was. To normal people.

Sokka’s hand reached out and gently took his wrist. They hadn’t spoken of the last furtive kiss in Sokka’s tent. But now, Sokka’s thumb rubbed against the soft skin at Zuko’s pulse point. “Come on. It’ll be fun. And I’d kill for a bag of fireflakes.”

“ _Fireflakes?”_ Zuko said derisively, but his hand turned to clasp Sokka’s. “The last time I saw you, you couldn’t handle a bowl of hot noodles.”

“It’s an acquired taste! I’ve acclimated. And,” Sokka winked. “You were right. When the spice is good, the heat is too.”

Zuko sighed. “Fine. Lead on,” he said, following Sokka down the hallway. As they entered the courtyard, he tugged on Sokka’s hand to release him, but the hand remained firm.

None of the others said a thing.

* * *

“Sokka, my only brother! We constantly roam these icy South Pole seas, and yet never do we find anything fulfilling!”

In the audience, Zuko heard Katara’s intake of breath. He’d _told_ them this would be unbearable. The Ember Island Players were still in business because of a robust tourist economy — and by being family friendly. No skill scoured that stage.

“All I want is a full feeling in my stomach! I'm starving!” Beside him, Sokka crossed his arms. It quickly became apparent what his _catch_ phrase was, and by the next exclamation of _I’m starving!_ Sokka couldn’t remain quiet any longer.

“This is pathetic. My jokes are way funnier than this!”

“Are they?” Toph shot back at him.

“Of course they are!”

“I don’t know Sokka,” she poked, “I think he’s got you pegged.”

They were immediately hushed by audience members to their right, and Sokka sank deeper into his seat. Beside him, Zuko leaned in close. “I think you’re funny.”

“Yeah?” Sokka asked, head perking up.

“Yeah, uh... funny looking.”

Sokka stared at Zuko for five long seconds before his laugh erupted loudly into the otherwise quiet theater. Again, a cascade of hushes came from their right, and now their left. Even Katara turned to shush him.

“Sokka! Shut up!” she hissed. “Can’t you see it’s _my_ turn to be annoyed?” She crossed her arms as she glared down at the stage. “I _don’t_ talk like that.”

“And I’m played by a _girl_ ,” Aang whined.

“The roles of young men are often played by girls in theater. It’s not unusual,” Zuko said, as Sokka said, “I don’t know, Katara, didn’t I catch you giving the ‘hope’ speech to Momo the other day?”

“But I don’t sound like that at all!” Aang said, sinking deeper into his seat. ‘I’m not an ‘incurable prankster!’ I’m _fun_ and _not a woman_!”

Another of the Avatar actress’s jokes fell flat. From where she sat with Suki, Toph snickered. “I think they nailed you. Sorry, twinkle toes.”

There would be more time to egg on the Avatar later, now it was time for Zuko to make his appearance. It was nearly as bad as he’d thought it would be. The sheer outrageousness of their depictions of Zuko and Iroh made it ridiculous to be _annoyed_ by it, but Zuko still frowned. He hadn’t spent that much time telling his uncle to shut up, had he?

Clearly enough that their ‘sources’ took it as his one character trait. A pinch of shame came to him, but it was soon overturned by a pinch of annoyance. “They make me look totally stiff and humorless.”

In front of him, Katara shrugged. “That might be _pretty_ spot on.”

“How could you say that?” Beside him, Sokka snickered and Zuko turned to glare at him. “ _What?”_

Suki answered, lips turned up in a half smile. “Zuko, do I need to remind you of the joke you just tried to tell?”

“I can be funny!”

“Yeah,” Sokka said, still snickering. “Funny looking.”

It was Zuko’s turn to sink deeper into his seat, but not before elbowing Sokka. The rest of the play was just as embarrassing as the start, and Zuko was trying to recover from a particularly embarrassing scene involving the Blue Spirit when the setting changed, showing a small Earth Nation town occupied by Fire Nation soldiers. No doubt the Avatar would swoop in, rattle the town, and free the people.

Then, the actress playing Katara swooned, her sleeves rising up to hide her face. “And who are _you_ , stranger?”

The costume was off, but not so off, and Zuko stiffened where he sat when he said, “The name’s Jet.” The speech was off, mannerisms all wrong, but he swung an arm around Katara. “Don't cry, baby! I’ll wipe out that nasty town for you!”

Toph laughed while Katara hissed to her, “It wasn’t like that!”

“I didn’t know you’d had a _boyfriend_ ,” Toph said, still laughing.

Aang chimed in, “It wasn’t like that! Right, Katara?”

“Of _course_ not!”

The quipping raged on, and Sokka’s hand found its way to Zuko’s knee. “What?” he whispered.

“Nothing,” Zuko said, but his ears were ringing, without even being sure _why_. Jet had been a strange and uncomfortable blip on his life on the road, of his life in Ba Sing Se. While there, he’d never shared news of his stalker with Sokka — why would he have? He hadn’t needed or wanted his help. Zuko had taken care of it all on his own. Jet was no doubt still in Ba Sing Se, either in prison or being a terror to another group of refugees.

That chapter was long finished. So why did Zuko’s chest hurt?

Sokka was distracted by his actor on stage, and the depictions of the events in the north involving the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. His hand stayed on Zuko’s knee, and the longer it stayed there, the more anxious Zuko became.

Regardless of the half-conversation he’d had with Katara on top of the bison, Zuko still felt uncomfortable. To have their strange perhaps-relationship _known_. If the others wouldn’t say anything about it, then how would he know what they thought? If they did say something of it, could he bear it?

The off-balance sensation must have come from his surprise at knowing they all knew _Jet_. What had Jet been like when he met them, besides trying to raze a city? Hopefully nothing like _his_ relationship with Jet, but —

The intermission was announced and Zuko jolted up, displacing Sokka’s hand as Zuko sped from the theater. The others followed him, and when he found a secluded corner to mope in, Katara misunderstood his issues entirely.

“It’s ok, Zuko,” she said. “It's not like I'm a preachy crybaby who can't resist giving overemotional speeches about hope all the time.”

The others quickly jumped in to tell Katara what they _thought_ about that, and Zuko shifted. They had no idea what he was feeling. Quite frankly, neither did he.

Act Two was no better, and Zuko wished he’d stayed away, or that he’d had the guts to escape during intermission. What would the others have said had he left and returned home? What would they have assumed? Anything? Nothing?

The audience laughed at the antics on stage, while the others alongside Zuko only enjoyed the parts not about _them_. Except for Toph, who thought her depiction as an enormous muscle man was spot on.

Which wasn’t incorrect, spiritually.

Zuko’s mind wandered as his banishment unrolled on screen. If he could only last a bit longer, then he could escape without making a fool out of himself. He ignored the jabs, the theatrical version of Azula, he ignored it all until the Avatar’s group arrived in Ba Sing Se, and Jet’s actor reemerged once more.

“He…” Zuko murmured. It seemed only Sokka could hear him. “Did Jet just... die?”

Sokka shrugged, but he did look uncomfortable. “In Ba Sing Se. He was being mind controlled, broke out of it before...”

“Mind controlled?”

“By the Dai Li.”

Again, Sokka’s hand shifted to his knee. “Zuko, what’s wrong?”

This time, Zuko’s hand shakily took hold of Sokka’s. Then, he removed it and shook his head. He could not bear to be touched, nor could he bear to see Sokka’s expression. Instead, his eyes stayed on the stage, where the plot trundled along, backdrop now a brilliant blue-ish green and Zuko’s stomach sank.

The Crystal Catacombs.

“ _You!_ ” the prince’s actor shouted.

“ _You!_ ” Sokka’s actor shouted.

“You!” Then the ‘prince’ squinted. _“Who_ are you?”

A slap fight quickly started on stage and the audience roared as their now-traitor prince struggled to subdue a Water Tribe buffoon. Then, Sokka’s actor took a step back, heavy breathing over-acted. “Jeez, can we _pause_!” he asked, then looked to the audience, “I need a break. I’m…” In unison with a rapt audience, he yelled: “ _starving!”_

In front of him, Zuko saw Toph’s head tilt. He wondered if she would say something, perhaps of the quips she’d been tossing out all night. She said nothing, and Zuko remembered how she could feel heart beats. With a bolt of worry, Zuko stood and excused himself, leaving as actor-Zuko flung a ribbon of “firebending” around actor-Sokka’s neck, making him yelp and tap dance away.

Zuko left, and he did not look back.

* * *

Zuko didn’t come back after the third intermission. Sokka didn’t find him at the restrooms or at the fireflake stand. Finally, he asked Toph, who frowned. She didn’t feel him anywhere. Sokka had half a mind to hunt down his actor and give him new material, but instead, he found his feet on the road and then the sand as he slowly made his way back to the Fire Lord’s vacation home.

That would never make sense in his mind.

Sokka had learned to laugh at himself. He’d always preferred laughing at others, but eventually, he’d had to come to peace with being the butt of the joke now and again. It was par for the course when you were a non-bender surrounded by young prodigies, masters, and the Avatar, master of all four elements. Elements of the play had made him annoyed, but…

Zuko hadn’t seemed annoyed. He’d seemed —

Sokka didn’t know. He also didn’t know if finding Zuko was the right course of action, not when the other had made it so clear he didn’t want him nearby. But he couldn’t sit there in the stands with an empty seat beside him.

The house was quiet, no lanterns or candles helpfully lit by their resident firebender. Sokka found his fire starter and lit lamps as he walked through the halls, eventually coming upon the broken vase. It still laid shattered on the ground, and not long ago Zuko had kneeled before it, looking through the pieces.

In another wing, Sokka found a door pushed open. When he brought his lamp light closer, he found Zuko sitting on the floor, surrounded by detritus from the old house.

“Hey.” He found a lamp to light. It cast only a glimmer of light in the room.

“What are you doing?” Zuko said, still sitting. He looked over his shoulder before looking back at his lap.

“I left early.”

“Why?”

“To find you.”

“ _Why?_ ”

It was like talking to a prickly dragon. Still, Sokka took a step forward. “You seemed upset.”

“Oh.” Zuko was silent for a moment. “Sorry. You can go back.”

“That’s alright. It wasn’t as fun and wacky as I was hoping. Well, I guess it was _wacky_ , but not fun at all.” When Zuko didn’t speak, Sokka came closer, sitting beside him on the dusty floor. In Zuko’s hands was a faded ink drawing of a young family, clearly by a master. “Is that…?”

“I guess you’ve never seen him, have you? Yes, that’s my father.”

“I was going to say your mother.”

“Oh.” Zuko looked down, and his gaze was strange, detached, but also… “Yes. This is all of us.”

“Can I see?”

Zuko passed over the portrait and the paper felt brittle. A family stared up at him, and really, they didn’t look like anything special. The robes were ostentatious but not full regalia, the parents sat primly in chairs and the children sat on the ground. Fire Lord Ozai looked back at him, and he seemed… like a man. Not a monster or demon or dragon come to snatch the world in his jaws. Just a man. His hand rested on Zuko’s shoulder, not Azula’s.

“Your father doesn’t look that scary.”

“He is,” Zuko said, frowning as he looked down at the portrait. “This was commissioned a long time ago, before my cousin Lu Ten passed away in the war. I was still my father’s primarily heir, and fourth in line for the throne.”

“Wait — your uncle was first in line?”

“Yes. Him, then Lu Ten, then father, and then me. Then Azula. When I was growing up, I never thought I’d be Fire Lord. Lu Ten was meant to be, and I would be…”

Zuko trailed off, once more eerily quiet. “You would be...?”

“Free,” Zuko said, then shook his head. “It would have been easier.”

“Your grandfather cut off Iroh just because he didn’t have an heir anymore?”

“No. Azula said...” Zuko licked his lip, suddenly looking much younger than he’d ever looked before. “We hid and listened to father’s audience with grandfather. He asked for uncle’s birthright to be given to him because his children still lived. Grandfather was… furious and was going to punish him. I ran — I _left_ , but Azula said she’d overheard, and he meant for him to kill me. So, father would know the pain of losing a first born.”

“That’s insane!”

“‘Azula always lies,’” Zuko said, as if he were quoting someone. Though he looked unsure. “But I don’t know. After confronting my father before leaving… It’s not too surprising.”

“Wait. You did what?”

“Ah,” Zuko said. His brow furrowed, then he shrugged. “Confronted him. Well, he tried to kill me.” His eyes went back to the portrait in Sokka’s hands. “But he told me my mother was banished, like I was. She could still be alive.”

“Didn’t he say anything else about her?”

“Only that she did treasonous things that evening. Nothing more, and I don’t know if he ever will.”

“Will you look for her?”

“Eventually. I think she would want me to do this first.”

Sokka nodded. In the portrait, Ozai looked like just a man. Both Zuko and Azula were round faced and innocent, neither looked like the maniacs who had chased them around the globe. Behind Azula, Zuko’s mother sat stiffly. “She’s pretty.”

“Thank you.” Zuko’s voice was still distracted and distant, but he leaned closer to look at the portrait again.

“I guess that’s where you get it from.”

Zuko’s eyes darted up, confused. Then he looked away. Still not all there.

“So, what happened tonight?”

Zuko frowned across the room, glaring at a wall. “What do you mean?”

“You left the play.”

“I guess I don’t like theater as much as I remember.”

“Liar,” Sokka said, albeit gently. “You were ready to go in on Aang about the history of _gender in theater_. Something happened.”

Suddenly, the tension in the room seemed palpable, and Sokka wasn’t sure how he’d missed the strained way Zuko held his shoulders, set his mouth. Sokka reached out and touched Zuko’s shoulder, only for the other to jerk away. “Sorry,” he said, but scooted to face him, he held one hand out limply between them.

Zuko shook his head, opened his mouth then closed it again. Both eyes slid shut, and when he opened them, he tentatively reached for Sokka’s outstretched hand. “Jet’s dead?” he asked, blindsiding Sokka.

“Uh. Probably. I thought you’d asked because of the _vague writing_. Did you know him?”

Zuko’s expression seemed strained, then it relaxed, passive. “Briefly. For a time.”

How did the prince of the Fire Nation meet Jet, notorious freedom fighter, willing to do anything, even hurt innocents? “He was a real piece of work.” When Zuko didn’t speak, Sokka pressed. Carefully. “Zuko?”

“It’s nothing,” Zuko snapped, “I’m fine.”

Sokka had heard this before, versions of it before, and he shifted uncomfortably at the memory. In Ba Sing Se, and then at the Boiling Rock. “Zuko, I don’t care what — ”

“It wasn’t anything,” Zuko bit out, shaking his head. “It was nothing. We met… on the way to Ba Sing Se. And we were — ” The words stuttered, and his brow remained furrowed. “Not together. Just — briefly, together.”

Now, Sokka was frowning, trying to read between the words. “Ok. And you… Did you not want to?”

“ _No_.” Zuko’s hand darted back into his own lap. “I did! I didn’t say no. I just… it just happened.”

Sokka didn’t reach for his hand again. “But that doesn’t mean — ”

“I _know_ what it means. And it was nothing. And it would have been _nothing_ , but — he came to the conclusion that uncle and I were Fire Nation. And he…”

“What?”

“Became… obsessive. He attacked me and was taken away by the Dai Li, and then…” Zuko’s voice trailed off. “He died.”

Sokka’s brain paged through the new information, trying to read through the lines while deciphering Zuko’s distant expressions. “It wasn’t your fault — ”

“That’s not _it_.”

“Then what? _Talk_ to me, Zuko.”

Zuko’s jaw worked. He looked exhausted. Finally, like a greased wheel, his mouth managed to open, but his voice was quiet. “I… didn’t like the way it made me feel.”

It was a simple sentence, even the sentiment could be considered straight forward. But it felt like a bomb, with complexity Sokka was nowhere ready to handle, needing vocabulary he didn’t have. Again, he itched to put his hands on Zuko, to be reassuring and present. Something told him not to.

Zuko’s words eked out like molasses. “I was angry, and confused. Insulted. I blame — _blamed_ myself, and I thought one day I’d — get him back. Or tell him… _all of that_. But he’s dead. Regardless of what happened between us, he shouldn’t be _dead_. And… I may have played a part in that too.”

“How?”

“He was raving, but he _was_ right. I _am_ a firebender. The Dai Li took him away.”

Sokka winced but said nothing. The Dai Li were merciless and cruel, but Sokka was slowly beginning to read through the lines. “And is he why you…”

Zuko’s frown deepened. “Asked you to call me a Fire Nation whore?” The derogatory term cut between them, and Sokka shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, but I don’t think I ever really wanted you to.”

“Did you want me to do anything? I didn’t mean to — ” Sokka’s voice rose, worry settling in.

“ _No_. No.” Zuko’s gaze went to the floor between them. “I went after _you_. And I — liked it.”

“Ok. Good. Later, we should talk about — ”

“Maybe we should talk about it now,” Zuko said, bluntly. Voice rising, slightly manic. Both hands rose to press against his eyes, rubbing away tension. “Why not?”

“Zuko — ”

“No. Let’s. You kissed me the other day. Don’t do it again.”

“ _Zuko_.”

“I respect Suki too much,” Zuko said harshly, “and I didn’t think much about it in Ba Sing Se. But here, with her, I can’t — I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to be anyone’s second.”

“Zuko, wait.” Sokka cut him off, and now his hand did reach out, looping around Zuko’s forearm. “I talked with her. We’re not together.”

“Why not?” Zuko asked, bewildered.

“Because it didn’t feel right.” The conversation had escaped from Sokka too many times, now he held tight. “It didn’t feel right to be with both of you, but it didn’t feel right to not… try this. So, I chose this.”

Disoriented and confused, Zuko blinked owlishly at him. “ _Why?”_

“Because I wanted to try this with you. If you still want to.” Sokka went quiet, waiting for a response. None came. “Zuko, you’re just frowning.”

“I…”

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want.”

Zuko’s arm twisted slowly, Sokka was still gripping his, but now Zuko could loop his fingers around Sokka’s forearm too. The grip felt strong, like when Sokka had caught him and pulled him to Appa’s back. “I don’t want you to fuck off,” he muttered finally.

“Good,” Sokka said lowly, his other arm resting on Zuko’s knee. He ached to move closer but didn’t yet dare.

Slowly, Zuko pushed forwards, onto his knees. His brilliant, golden eyes were shadowed in the dim lamplight, reminding Sokka of another night, at an inn in Ba Sing Se. That had been a different Zuko, one that was angry and spitting and demanding. Maybe it had been a different Sokka too, one who didn’t ask questions, who just blundered forward.

“Are you going to sleep here? Wait, and I’ll bring you tea.”

Zuko looked over his shoulder and around the dimly lit space. “Well. It was my room.” Sokka looked again, and now seemed to see the telltale signs of child-like habitation. In the corner a few broken toys littered the ground, and the bed, although still ostentatious compared to anything they’d had in the south, was still smaller than befit a ruler. Zuko looked back to Sokka. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he said quietly, “no offense, but you’ll probably burn the leaves.”

Sokka snickered, but was cut off when Zuko pressed forward, his free hand resting on Sokka’s thigh. The kiss was small, strangely explorative compared to what they’d already done. Sokka’s hands moved to rest on the other’s hips. When the kiss ended, he murmured, “Are you sure you don’t just want to sleep?”

Gold eyes gleamed. They were not the faraway look from before, the one Sokka hadn’t been sure he’d be able to reel back in. They were alert, maybe tired, but also simmering. Like the heat inside the firebender was reaching a boil and needed to escape.

“Let me decide.”

He could do that. Zuko was soft in his arms as they kissed, and somehow their clothing was peeled back with Zuko still glued to him. Sokka stripped the bed of its dusty top cover before pressing Zuko back against the soft mattress. Even though the air was still and the bedding stale, it was cleaner and more opulent than the inn in Ba Sing Se.

Sokka straddled him, and Zuko’s hands ran up his thighs. In measured moments they continued their journey, hands dipping beneath Sokka’s waistband. Zuko brought a hand to his mouth, licked a long stripe before bringing the wet hand back to Sokka.

“You look…” Sokka cut himself off when he saw Zuko frown. “Want me to shut up?”

“No…” Zuko murmured, making Sokka jump when he squeezed. “I think I want to hear. What do I look like?”

Put on the spot, Sokka clammed up. But Zuko’s eyes stayed on him, the scarred eye squinting, the other half-hooded. Slowly, Sokka began to talk, a worked-up mumble of _good, no wait, incredible actually_ , as Zuko heated his skin, wound him up like a toy. Sokka was close to coming, the air hot between them, when Zuko’s hand slowed.

“I don’t want you to come yet, I want you to — ”

Sokka interrupted. “Do you want to?”

“What?”

“Do you want to fuck _me_?”

Zuko blinked at him, any coyness dissolved. “I… haven’t before.”

“You didn’t say ‘no,’” Sokka said, and when Zuko didn’t say otherwise, he rolled over, pulling Zuko with him.

Now on top, Zuko looked down, wonder in his eyes. Wetting a bottom lip, he murmured Sokka’s name, before ducking down, nosing into the crook at Sokka’s shoulder. Pressed chest to chest, Sokka could appreciate the heat Zuko generated, like a warm quilt on a cold, arctic night. Zuko kissed the soft skin at this throat, then trailed down, over his collar bone, then his chest, stomach, finally his hip bone.

Golden eyes flicked up to Sokka when the other’s hand found his cock again, and Sokka’s mouth went dry when he felt Zuko swallow him. “Spirits,” he groaned, his hips quivering with the resolve it took to not thrust as deeply into Zuko’s throat as he could. Zuko kept going, nearly taking him over the edge, when he pulled off with a pop.

“Oil,” he whispered. First, his hands tugged Sokka’s trousers down and off, then he leaned over the side of the bed to reach for the lamp Sokka had abandoned. The light flickered as Zuko carefully maneuvered the lamp and its oil well without breaking it or singing his fingers. Then he was back, between Sokka’s legs, finger wet and firm at his entrance. “Have you… done this before?”

“Not _this_ ,” Sokka admitted, but then his cheeks heated. “But I’ve… been curious.”

Curious enough to explore himself when given the chance, and admittedly, there hadn’t been many chances. The most time Sokka had spent in one place had been Ba Sing Se. After that, there had been the ship with his father, then being incognito in the Fire Nation with his sister and the others. Tensions had been high; he’d rarely been able to blow off steam.

The exploring he _had_ done was nothing compared to the feeling as Zuko’s fingers slipped inside him. They weren’t _his own_ fingers, he couldn’t anticipate their movements, and each twitch and pull was electric in its own right. Still, it felt unusual, strange, but then Zuko was filling him up with more fingers, claiming his mouth with his own. Sokka was lost to the sensation of tongue against tongue, gasping and eager when Zuko’s teeth tugged on his bottom lip.

Zuko broke apart from him. “Are you ready?”

“Uh.” Was he? Sokka wasn’t sure. “Yes.”

“ _Sokka_.”

“Yes, come on. Probably.” Zuko’s expression went flat and irritated, and it was almost hilarious. Too reminiscent of the frustrated, torn young man he’d met in Ba Sing Se. “Really, Zuko. Trust me, just go slow. “

The sight was incredible. Zuko leaning back on his knees between Sokka’s legs. His expression was quiet, even… reverent as he pressed Sokka’s raised leg back before lining himself up and pushing in with parted lips.

Sokka’s mouth dropped open, the stretch more than expected. Above him, Zuko’s eyes were focused as he breached him, and Sokka’s hands twisted in the remaining blankets as inch by inch he was filled, _more_ than he thought possible.

“Are you ok?” Zuko whispered, his pelvis nestled against him.

He groaned but reached out and grabbed Zuko’s wrist before the other could retreat. “No, it’s — it’s _a lot_ , but it’s good. Keep… keep going.”

Their eyes locked, and after a moment, Zuko nodded. His fingers wrapped around Sokka’s knees, his expression was _aching_ , and then, his hips snapped.

Sokka considered himself… pretty good at sex. He hadn’t been at first, but enough tumbles with Suki had taught him what to do. Or rather, enough coaching from Suki had told him what to do, and how to read his partner. It was why he’d been able to dive into this thing with Zuko headfirst, with no fear.

This was entirely different. Zuko paused to add more oil, and then Sokka was being _fucked_. It wasn’t like doing the fucking; in this position Sokka had little control; he couldn’t control the speed or force, and it wasn’t like letting his partner take control. Nothing at all like being ridden by Suki or letting Zuko push him around.

Heat coiled in his abdomen with every push, sweat collected on his brow. It was a different sort of bliss, one that shocked and surprised him at every turn. He might not have control, but he did have every iota of Zuko’s attention solely on himself. And that more than made up for it.

Nothing though could have prepared him for Zuko above him. He had seen Zuko fight, been on the receiving end once or twice, had watched him practice bending and sparred with him on multiple occasions. Zuko was _powerful_ ; his muscle was lean, but strength radiated through him as he bent forward, his hands finding Sokka’s wrists and holding them down against the bed as he crushed their mouths together.

Sokka groaned into Zuko’s mouth, and it seemed they were as close as they could be, Zuko’s hips grinding up against him, his legs up, nearly over his shoulders. “I’m not going to last,” he muttered when Zuko ended the kiss, his mouth wet with Sokka’s spit.

Zuko nodded, and one forearm braced against the mattress and the other found Sokka. Every twist of his hips and grind against Sokka’s ass made him see stars, made worse and explosive by the drag on his dick.

Without realizing it, his mouth had started running, a cadence of _yes_ and _spirits please_ , _more, faster, fuck me, yes_ , and then, explosively, Sokka was coming, his legs tight around Zuko in a vice grip, his body thrumming and electric.

Zuko’s head fell down against Sokka’s breastbone. “Can I? I need more.”

Sokka felt sensitive and wrung out, but “ _Yes_. Yes, you idiot. Keep fucking me.”

“ _Nitwit_ ,” Zuko said affectionately with a relieved sigh, and then his hips were moving again. Sokka watched with awe as Zuko came with a groan, his eyes shut, head tipped back, shoulders twitching. When he fell forward, Sokka wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. The other’s head shoved into his neck, now deadweight.

Heavy, warm, safe.


	8. Chapter 8

The days passed, and with them, the time until Sozin’s Comet decreased too. Zuko was glad he’d left the Ember Island Players before the play’s end, he hadn’t wanted to stomach watching what his nation would cheer for — the end to the Avatar, and himself burnt up by Azula. It was propaganda, he reminded the others.

And they needed to train, not be undone by wacky shenanigans. Aang wouldn’t be a true master before facing Zuko’s father, but he could master katas and learn firebending as best he could. _If_ Zuko could make him.

In the evenings, it was warm enough to sleep outside under the stars, and most of the team did so in the open courtyard. Night after night Zuko found himself tracing the hallways of the estate, sometimes finding himself in empty rooms that belonged only to ghosts. Always, he found himself back in the room that had once been set aside for him.

If he slept first, he’d wake to Sokka at his side. Once, Zuko even found Sokka asleep in the bed before him. He’d settled in, the heavy weight at his side lulling him to sleep.

It was good then, that they’d beaten the dust out of the bedding.

The next morning, Zuko woke first. Sunlight trickled through the unsealed windows, and Sokka’s snores thrummed behind him. It wouldn’t be long until everything changed, and for the moment, Zuko laid still, not yet jumping up to find Aang to begin forcing him through fire rotations.

When Sokka began to rouse, he nosed at Zuko’s neck, ticking the hairs there. His hands naturally swept around him, hands pressing flat on Zuko’s stomach. He was very clingy. Zuko fidgeted so he could breathe.

“Are you awake?” Sokka asked, half asleep.

“Of course.”

“Why are you _always awake_?” Sokka groaned.

“Because there’s a lot to do,” Zuko whispered back. “Like train the Avatar so he can save the world.”

“Don’t call him _the Avatar_ , you call him Aang now.”

“...Shut up.”

Sokka snickered against his neck, warm and heavy.

“Let me get up. After I train with… Aang, we can go a round. You’re getting better at disarming me, even when I use firebending too.” Sokka’s swordsmanship was increasing. The unique blade was strong in his hands.

“Hmm,” Sokka mumbled. “Why wait? I’ll give you swordplay right here.” His warm hand dipped from Zuko’s stomach, lower and lower.

Even Zuko, dour and worried, snorted. “That’s the worst line you’ve used yet.”

“I’ll work on worse,” Sokka promised, and slowly, leisurely, under the glow of early morning, Sokka rocked against him, bringing him to completion with a sigh.

Zuko was half dressed when Sokka sat up, the sheets pooling around his hips. He watched Zuko tighten the sash around his waist with an appreciative eye.

“What?” Zuko asked.

Sokka hummed. “So, I know I seem like a pretty _go with the flow_ sort of guy, but I’m also the plan guy. What _is_ your plan?”

“Aang defeats the Fire Lord.”

“Yeah. And after that?”

Zuko stiffened. “Oh.” He breathed deeply. “I don’t know. I was never meant to be Fire Lord. It was meant to go to uncle and then to Lu Ten, that was destiny. Uncle should be Fire Lord.”

“Ok…” Sokka said, frown small yet present. “Do you think he’s… going to remarry? Produce an heir?”

“ _Oh_.” Zuko made a face. He really didn’t need to think about the flirtatious nature of his uncle, and how he might go around producing an heir at his age. “Ask _him_ , if you need to know.”

“Don’t be so touchy.” Sokka swung his legs off the bed, reaching for his trousers. “Have you… not thought about this?”

“ _No_.” Zuko said, louder and angrier than he anticipated. “I didn’t, because apparently I’m a _moron_.”

“You’re not a moron.”

“No — I _am_. Even after Ba Sing Se, it took leading _Mai_ on to make me realize I didn’t want a wife! I thought I was meant to be Fire Lord, but I was wrong. Uncle can fix the country and I — ” Zuko pressed the heels of his palm to his eyes. “I can be with you.”

“Is that what you want?” Sokka’s voice was small, and when Zuko unveiled his eyes, the other was staring at him, eyes dark. Hungry.

“Yes. I think so,” Zuko said, feet moving of their own accord, to stand between Sokka’s legs.

“Romantic,” Sokka whispered, then laughed. “Sorry, that was a very, _very_ hot thing to say.” His hands darted to Zuko’s sash, untying it. “Just a few more minutes?”

It took longer than a few more minutes.

* * *

“What is that?” Aang asked, squinting at Sokka’s masterpiece. “A blubbering blob monster?”

Sokka scowled at the disparagement of his work. The sun was high above them, making the sand hot to the touch and the sea bathwater warm. Always, Sokka would miss and yearn for his home at the Southern Pole, but… the Fire Nation had a perk or two.

“Can’t you tell?” Sokka said hotly, “It’s _Zuko_.”

Suki was the first to lay back in the sand laughing. Then Toph began laughing, even though she admitted she could hardly see it because of the loose properties of sand.

Unbelievably rude.

“You’re just jealous!” he snapped, “I was _going_ to make you next, but _never mind_.”

“Is Zuko a blubbering blob monster?” Aang asked, while Sokka stomped his foot in the sand.

“Come on guys,” Suki said, wiping her eyes from laughter. “It’s sort of sweet.”

“ _Sort of —_ “ Sokka began, just before the Fire Nation attacked.

Rather, it was Zuko — who one, _destroyed his sand portrait_ , and who two, was now chasing Aang up to the house, nearly taking out half of the roof as his firebending went haywire against Aang’s airbending.

“What’s going on!” Katara asked as she ran up from farther down the beach. “Did they find us?”

“No,” Suki shouted. From where she stood, she appeared to be trying to get a better look at the action. “Zuko’s gone after Aang!”

“ _What_?”

Sokka scoffed, desperately trying to pull sand back together. “It’s probably just crazy firebending hour. More importantly, _Zuko hates my art_.”

“Sokka!” Katara chastised, “This is serious! They just took out the _kitchen_. Come on!”

He had to be pulled away, but as they approached the home, even Sokka had to admit the battle was strangely fierce. Zuko seemed to be holding little back, and his firebending was bright, shimmering, the strange multicolored fire Sokka had noticed ever since he and Aang had returned from the Sun Warriors.

Aang was shouting back at him, nimble and quick, but nervous too. A wave of airbending tore off chunks of roofing and also sent Zuko flying away. “ _Enough!”_ Aang shouted as Katara arrived on the scene yelling too.

“Zuko, what's wrong with you? You could have hurt Aang!”

“What’s wrong with _me?_ ” Zuko rose back into stance, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down. “What's wrong with all of you? How can you sit around having beach parties when Sozin's Comet is only three days away?” Around him, they were silent, even Sokka. “Why are you all looking at me like I'm crazy?”

The young Avatar sounded sheepish. “About Sozin's Comet ... I was actually gonna wait to fight the Fire Lord until after it came.”

“ _After?”_ Zuko said, eyes now comically wide.

“I'm not ready. I need more time to master firebending.”

“Your earthbending too,” Toph piped up.

“Zuko, relax.” Sokka said, his hands up. “We have more than three days this way. We’ll have a real chance.”

“You knew?” Zuko snapped. “You _all_ knew Aang was going to wait?”

“Honestly, if Aang tries to fight the Fire Lord now, he's going to lose. No offense, Aang.” Sokka regretted his words, though only a little. They needed to be realistic about this.

“The whole point of fighting the Fire Lord before the comet,” Katara cut in, “was to stop the Fire Nation from winning the war, but they pretty much won when they took Ba Sing Se.” At her words, Zuko’s shoulders fell. “Things can't get any worse.”

Zuko’s hand rose to his chin, then his scar, then they dragged up through his hair. The frustration was still there, but now he seemed… worried. “You're wrong. It's about to get worse than you can imagine. The day before the eclipse, my father asked me to attend an important war meeting.”

Zuko turned away from them, instead looking out to the sea and far beyond. “Their plan is horrific. My great grandfather used the comet to wipe out the Air Nomads. What do you think my father will do with that power?”

“Zuko,” Aang asked, face distraught. “What is he going to do?”

“He’s going to cripple the Earth Kingdom, crush their hope, raze their fields and cities for as long as the comet allows. He’ll get far. Very far. If you wait, you might defeat him at a later date, but there… Aang there won’t be much left to save.”

Zuko shook his head. “I wanted to speak out at the war council. But I didn’t. My whole… life I struggled to gain my father’s love and acceptance, but once I had it…” Zuko’s voice trailed off with a sigh.

“I can't believe this,” Katara choked.

“That’s… just evil,” Sokka said, as his hand found his sister’s shoulder.

“Listen, Aang.” Zuko turned, walking towards his student. “I know you're scared, and I know you're not ready to save the world, but if you don't defeat the Fire Lord before the comet comes, there won't be a world to save anymore.”

“Why didn't you tell me about your dad's crazy plan _sooner?”_

“I didn't think I had to! I assumed you were still going to fight him before the comet. No one told _me_ you decided to wait.”

“This is so bad,” Aang muttered, nearly manic as he sunk to the floor. “So very, very bad. I can’t do this.”

“You don't have to do this alone,” Katara said. She was right. It wouldn’t be easy, but together, they might manage it. They might even manage to pull Zuko in for the obligatory group hug, and Sokka’s hand found the small of his back when he collapsed against them.

* * *

In the morning, Aang was gone.

* * *

They didn’t find Aang on the beach or in town. No matter how thoroughly they combed the estate, the young monk was nowhere to be found. They reconvened in the estate’s courtyard, Katara looking worried, Appa snuffling at the dirt as if he could suss out a hidden scent. Toph looked more annoyed than anything else, after she’d combed the town with Zuko at her side.

“No Aang and field trip was _lousy_. No one told me Zuko was boring.”

“ _Hey_ ,” he grumbled. “Why do you keep saying _field trip_?”

“You and Aang got to discover the old firebending masters! Then you, Sokka, and Suki broke out of a high security _prison_. Katara got arguably got the best one, _cold blooded revenge_. What do I get? Nothing!”

Zuko’s sighed, clearly agitated. “If you want, we can go yell at your parents together after Sozin’s Comet. Let’s focus.”

“Yes, finding Aang is our number one priority,” Katara agreed. “Well, Zuko. What do we do?”

“What? Why are you all looking at me?”

“Well.” Sokka sounded apologetic. “You’re kind of the expert, you know? On tracking Aang across the world.”

“No, I’m — _dammit_.” Zuko bit his lip, looking down at the dirt. When they rose, they glinted. “Ok. Get on Appa.”

* * *

June was just as frustrating, sarcastic, yet capable as Zuko remembered. Also, perceptive, if her smirk when Sokka corrected her — _Katara and Zuko aren’t dating!_ — was anything to go by. A problem for a different day.

Their current problem was large: The shirshu couldn’t scent Aang.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, Prince Pouty, it means your friend's gone.”

Toph frowned, even though she seemed to like June and her attitude more than she let on. “We know he's gone. That's why we're trying to find him.”

“No,” the tracker said. “I mean he's _gone_ gone. He doesn't exist.”

“Ok,” Sokka interjected. “What does _that_ mean? It can’t mean he’s…”

“Nope. We could find him if he were dead.” June’s hands went to her hips. “Wow, what a head-scratcher. See ya.”

“Wait!” Zuko called, mind racing. “I have another idea. There's only one other person in this world who can help us face the Fire Lord. Just… hold on.”

Zuko fled back towards Appa, finding his packed belongings and digging through. When he returned, Katara’s fingers went to her nose. “Is that… what _is that_?”

Sokka blanched. “You saved your uncle's sweaty sandal?”

“Is that… is that what that smells been?” Suki asked, aghast.

Toph elbowed Suki, echoing her from just the other day. “Isn’t it sort of sweet?”

“No,” Suki said, shaking her head. “No, it’s not.”

“Come on,” Zuko groaned. Shaking the sandal at the shirshu. “It’s… one of his favorite pairs, ok? Let’s just get started.”

“Fine by me,” June said, unplugging her own nose as her beast scented the sandal. With a twist, she jumped aboard the creature and the two dashed away. Ready to hunt.

“Quick, get on Appa. She won’t wait.”

“We’re _paying_ her!” Toph complained, as she bent herself onto the bison.

“Tell _her_ that,” Zuko shouted back, before boarding Appa and giving an automatic, “Yip yip.” Then, they too were off. Around them, the early night was bright. Without the moon, it would have been difficult to track June and the shirshu, but as the miles and hours passed, the shirshu kept running.

“Look,” Suki said, pointing ahead in the dark. “I think that’s Ba Sing Se.”

Zuko remembered the ferry ride and felt cold detachment at the memory. From water level, the walls of Ba Sing Se had been too tall to show the city. At the time, the future had seemed dark. Now from the air he could see the dim lights in the distance, clustered together.

Below them, the shirshu slowed at the outermost crumbled wall of Ba Sing Se. “Why are we stopping?” Zuko called down.

“Because we don’t go any farther!” June shouted back.

“Are we supposed to search all of Ba Sing Se?” Toph jumped down to the earth. “We already did that once and it _sucked_.”

“She’s antsy,” June said, patting her creature on its side. “The target isn’t much farther; but this is where we end our arrangement.”

“Ok, I’ll bite,” Sokka sighed. “ _Why_ aren’t you welcome in Ba Sing Se?”

“If I told you,” June said with a wink as she collected her payment from Zuko, “then I’d have to kill you.” Then she was gone.

In the quiet she left behind, Zuko spoke. “Let’s rest. We have better luck of finding my uncle in the morning.”

* * *

The pall of their situation hung over the party. No one lit a fire or told stories. Instead, Katara passed out rations, Toph created a tent made from rock slabs, and the others huddled together against Appa’s tail. Sleep didn’t come easily, but Zuko slept fitfully until Toph jolted him and the others awake with a yell.

“We’re surrounded!”

The girl was already out of her tiny rock fortress when a column of flame spread through the grass, rising up tall around them. It would be hard for Appa to take off without being singed.

“Your sister?” Sokka gasped, blearily, his hand wrapping around Zuko’s arm as he jumped to attention beside him. The other hand was on his sword hilt.

“No!” Toph shouted, face strained as she searched deeply with her earthbending. “No crazy pants sister, just — we’re surrounded by… old people?”

“Not just any old people,” Katara said, her voice brightening as she took off running towards a figure. Zuko frowned in disbelief when she bowed before an older man. She turned back towards her friends and called. “These are great masters!”

The man bowed back, a great honor from a master Zuko knew. “It is respectful to bow to an old master, but how about a hug for your new grandfather?”

Sokka pushed passed Zuko, enveloping the man in a hug he didn’t seem to want. “Welcome to the family, Gramp-Gramp!”

“Ok,” Zuko said, “but we’re looking for — ”

More figures arrived, and then both Zuko and Sokka stood straight. “Master Piandao,” they said at the same time as they bowed together. Then they paused, stared at one another, and said again in unison: “You know Master Piandao?”

Sokka looked defensive, “I met Master Piandao in the Fire Nation. He taught me fundamentals and… more about swordsmanship.”

The old master smiled at the two of them, “And for a time I was Prince Zuko’s master.” He bowed to both in turn. “Do you still train with the dao swords, prince?”

“Yes,” Zuko said, clearly flustered. “I find it still quiets my mind and improves my bending.”

“And how fares your calligraphy?”

Zuko grimaced. “Poorly, master.”

Sokka elbowed him, “You should have seen _mine_.”

“But master,” Zuko said, then looked around at the collection. There were others too. Bumi the Earth King, Jeong Jeong the wanted Fire Nation deserter, Pakku was the name of Sokka’s new ‘gramp-gramp.’ “ _Masters_ , what are you doing here?”

Piandao responded. “We have convened together to form a group that transcends the divisions of the four nations.”

“The Order of the White Lotus.” Zuko’s mind swam at the implication.

“That’s the one,” Bumi said, as Jeong Jeong nodded beside him.

“The White Lotus has always been about philosophy and beauty and truth. But about a month ago, a call went out that we were needed for something important.”

Pakku’s severe face nodded too. “It came from a Grand Lotus: your uncle, Iroh of the Fire Nation.”

“Well, that's who we're looking for.” Toph said as she smacked Zuko’s back.

“Then let us go.”

* * *

The camp was simple, but larger than Zuko expected. He’d never known what to expect of the Order of the White Lotus. It wasn’t the Pai Sho gathering of lazy old men with sharp wits and little else. It was a gathering of masters, and the farther they walked, the less certain Zuko’s steps became.

Piandao pointed him towards an unassuming tent, and Zuko stopped in his tracks. The others carried on, looking for food and shelter, save for the figure at his elbow.

“How do you feel?” Sokka asked quietly.

“Bad,” Zuko blurted. How could he put it to words? What he’d done and who he’d become, even when given every chance by a father figure who loved him? “Why wouldn’t he hate me? I know he must. He loved and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?”

“He doesn’t hate you. From what you’ve told us about him? There’s no way.”

“You don’t _know_ ,” Zuko said, dismally. “My uncle was the only one who stood by me when I was banished. He tried to teach me a new way all those years, and yet… I was too blinded by devotion to my _father_. How could he trust me when I turned on him? Even at the end when I was at my worst, he told me… what I needed to hear, but he didn’t trust me with his escape plan. How can I apologize?”

“Zuko…” Sokka said, his hand warm on Zuko’s in the dark. “Maybe he just knew you had different paths, and he trusted you to follow the right one. You belonged with us, and he belonged here.” Sokka shifted. “Do you want me to come?”

In the dark shade of the tent, under the still dark sky, Zuko sighed. It was like a burden lifted away. “No,” he said, as he moved closer, lips finding Sokka’s in the dark. “No but _thank you_.” Zuko kissed him again, licking into his mouth, their teeth clicking from his eagerness.

“Good,” Sokka laughed, kissing him back. “I’m going back to sleep. Find me later? And... don’t worry. Tell him. He’ll forgive you.”

In the tent, his uncle slept, and though his heart still trembled, Zuko smiled. He’d heard those snores for many years, on dark nights while they sat together on a Fire Nation cruiser together, when they were on the run together in the Earth Kingdom. He’d grown accustomed to the sound when they shared a small bedroom in Ba Sing Se. One had to respect their elders, so Zuko did not wake him. Instead, he sat, trying to find peace in his breathing, matched to his uncle’s sleeping breath.

It was still dark out when his uncle roused. The old man sat up, stretching, and he turned away when he saw Zuko. Away again, like in his cell. As if he couldn’t bear to look at him. Zuko looked at his uncle’s back and felt his heart jump into his throat.

It was what he deserved.

“Uncle… I know you must have mixed feelings about seeing me here. But I want you to know…” Zuko knew where he needed to start, what he needed to say, and though he’d been rehearsing the words for hours, his voice broke as soon as he began to speak. “I am so, _so_ , sorry, Uncle!” Zuko sucked in a breath, cheeks already wet with sorrow. “I am sorry, and I am ashamed of what I did. Everything you did for me… and I rejected you and your teachings. I don't know how I can ever make it up to you. But I'll — ”

His uncle was warm when he tugged him close, and Zuko felt like a child, though it did not make him ashamed. It was paternal and safe and comforting and Zuko dropped his weight into his uncle’s arms, the sobs both a surprise and a relief. “No, _no_ , you can’t forgive me so easily. I thought you would be furious with me.”

“Oh, my _son_ ,” his uncle said, and Zuko hiccupped. “Don’t think you can tell me how to forgive. I was never angry with you. I was sad because I was afraid you lost your way.”

“I did. I _did_ lose it.”

“But look at you!” the old man said, releasing Zuko from his hug to hold him at arm’s length. “You found it again, and by yourself at that! I am not angry with you, Prince Zuko, I am proud.”

“I had a good teacher,” Zuko said, moving to wipe his cheek, but his uncle’s thumb wiped away the moisture first. “It just… took me a bit longer.”

Uncle Iroh smiled warmly at him. “I am so happy you found your way here.”

“It wasn't that hard, Uncle. You have a pretty strong scent. Do you… want your sandals back?”

His uncle’s eyes widened. “The tan ones with the beading? What a joyous day this is, nephew.”

“Yeah,” Zuko sniffed, wiping snot and tears away. “Those are the ones.”

* * *

Though Master Piandao had shown Sokka to tents he could make use of, Sokka retreated and curled up beside Appa. If Zuko finished with his uncle before daylight, it might be the first place he’d look. After so much time on the road, Sokka was well used to the smell of bison.

But Zuko didn’t find him in the night, and there was no time for a full sleep. Suki shook him awake while the night was still dark.

“Are we ever going to sleep?”

“Maybe after the comet.”

“Zuko?”

“With his uncle,” Suki said with a smile. “Get ready, we’re going to meet with him and tell him our plan.”

“Aang?”

Her expression shadowed. “Nothing.”

It wasn’t a perfect plan, but they’d need to take action soon — tomorrow was the day of reckoning. Nearly awake. Sokka and Suki entered the Grand Lotus’s large planning tent. A giant glossy table sat in the middle, perfect for war plans, but a tea set sat there instead.

“Sokka!” Zuko called, smile wide as he rose from his seat beside his uncle, who was in deep discussion with Toph. “Tea?”

A simple offering, but Sokka’s face flushed. It didn’t help when Suki elbowed him before sitting beside Katara. “Well?” He asked, when he met Zuko halfway to the table.

“Good,” Zuko said, and his smile was beaming though he tried to hide it. “Very good. He wants to hear our plan.”

“Yes,” Iroh called, looking up from his discussion with Toph to Sokka. His eyes lingered on him, he felt, before darting back to Zuko. “Come round, I’ll pour. I’ve always said that — ”

“‘The best plans are made with the aroma of jasmine,’” Zuko said, completing the phrase. “Uncle, allow me.” He lowered himself at the table, Sokka beside him, before picking up the tea pot. The lightly golden tea was poured, first into Iroh’s cup, then to Toph, Katara, Suki, Sokka and finally Zuko himself.

Sokka sipped his tea — it tasted fine; much like tea tasted — as Zuko began to speak.

“We do not know where the Avatar is, but he is nowhere where the shirshu could find him. Uncle, you're the only person other than the Avatar who can possibly defeat father.”

Iroh only hummed as he sipped his tea. Zuko pushed forward. “We need you to come with us.”

“No, Zuko,” the old man sighed, turning his cup it in hand. “It won't turn out well.”

“You can beat him! And we'll be there to help.”

“Even if I did defeat my brother,” Iroh said as his eyes flashed, “and I don't know that I could, it would be the wrong way to end the war. Think of that transition of power, Zuko. History would see it as more senseless violence, a brother killing a brother to grab power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is for the Avatar to defeat the Fire Lord.”

“But he’s not _here_.”

“We must trust the Avatar will appear when he is needed. He has before. Have faith.”

Zuko’s head ducked down. “Even so… Then ... afterwards you would come and take your rightful place on the throne?”

“No. Someone new must take the throne. An idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor. It has to be you, Prince Zuko.”

“No,” Zuko said, surprise plastered on his face. Sokka’s chest ached suddenly, painfully, remembering vividly Zuko’s words.

He’d wanted to be _free_.

“It wasn’t supposed to be my destiny, Uncle. Father did this. I… Unquestionable honor? I've made too many mistakes.”

“Yes, you have. You've struggled; you've suffered, but you have always followed your own path. You restored your own honor, and only you can restore the honor of the Fire Nation.”

“Uncle, I cannot — ”

“Your uncle’s right, Zuko.” Sokka looked for who spoke, but he found it was himself, his own mouth moving. The worst of it was knowing he spoke the truth. “If we win this, your nation needs a leader. Think of the transition of power.”

“I have — there are distant cousins.”

Iroh sipped his tea, looking between the two young men. But he allowed Sokka to speak and did not interrupt. “Your people don’t know them. _You’re_ Ozai’s son. _You’re_ the Avatar’s firebending teacher. You’re the only one there could be.”

Sokka wished that Zuko’s expression was unreadable, that a stoic mask would appear. But no, Sokka could read the emotions crossing his expression easily: pride, sorrow, uncertainty. More.

A voice in Sokka’s mind supplied: _Look, see the fire._ Five syllables.

Around the table, the others were quiet, perhaps seeing more than they should. Zuko swallowed. “I’ll… try.”

_In the morning we’ll be gone_. Seven syllables.

“It’s the way it’s meant to be,” Sokka said, and he thought he managed to smile.

_They’ll find us burning_. Five syllables.

* * *

They would leave in the morning for their respective roles, their respective battles. The morning sun wasn’t far away, and Zuko’s uncle and other White Lotus members sent them away to rest before the battle. Zuko didn’t retreat to his uncle’s tent, and he didn’t care who saw as he followed Sokka to an empty tent set aside for the visitors.

It was meant for one, but they threw their things on the ground.

“What was that?” Zuko said weakly, his mind racing. “You know what I said.”

“I do. But your uncle’s right. We can’t trust someone unknown on the throne. It’s too likely they’ll be a loyalist. They need you.”

“They don’t need _me_ ,” Zuko tried again, “I’m just — ”

“Stop.” Sokka’s eyes darted up, frowning at him. “Don’t. They need you, because they need to see that it can be done. They need to follow your example. They _need_ you.”

“ _Sokka_. Even if that’s true, it means…”

“What?” Sokka said softly.

“The Fire Lord needs a wife.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Sokka says, vehemently. “That’s _fine_. Have a wife, have an heir, and have _me_ too. When you can, when there’s time for it. If that’s all you can give, I’ll still have it. I’ll still have _you._ ”

Zuko’s mother once upon a time had called him delicate. He was a _delicate_ boy, a sensitive boy. He’d toughened up when his father burnt off half his face, but in the past twenty-four hours, it seemed as if he was a little boy again. Prone to crying. Now he bit his lip, trying to press down on the welling emotion.

“Sokka, that won’t work.”

“Why not? I don’t care!”

“I do care!” And there it was — the reverse of his mantra. “And I don’t want to hurt you. Or — whoever gets chained to me. And I will, again and again. You say you won’t care, but you will. And she will too. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us.”

Sokka’s expression was gutted in the dim light of the tent. “So, then what? Is this it?”

“If I don’t ascend the throne, then — ”

Sokka shook his head. “You need to.”

And Zuko _did_. It took peeling away his wants and desires, but he knew Sokka and his uncle spoke the truth. There was no certainty that a far relation wouldn’t follow his father’s blood lust. At present, he couldn’t trust the governors to lead as a ruling body, not when the war had allowed them to claim new landholdings and power. His nation needed a figure to _follow_. And perhaps not wanting to lead made him perfect for it.

“You’re right,” he said.

“I’ll leave,” Sokka said lightly. “Stay here tonight, I’ll — ”

“No,” Zuko said quickly. “Stay. If tonight’s our last…” His words trailed off and Sokka smiled ruefully in the dark.

They found each other in the dark, and it was Zuko who caved first, who curled into Sokka’s warmth like his soul depended on it. Around them the camp was quiet, and they were quiet too save for the breathy sounds between their lips.

Sokka’s hands were becoming practiced at untying Zuko’s sash, though they wouldn’t need to do this task again. For now, his palms pressed in and slid against Zuko’s skin, nails catching on his hip bones as Zuko walked him backwards towards the sleeping mat.

At Sokka’s questioning gaze, Zuko nodded. “Please. I want to feel your mark on me.”

“I can do that,” Sokka murmured, blanketing Zuko’s body with his own as he pressed his lips and teeth to Zuko’s neck and shoulders, leaving brilliant light marks of red against Zuko’s skin. They trailed down further, and Zuko nodded again.

When Sokka entered him, his head tipped back, his arms reaching up to brace against Sokka’s arms. In the dark and the silence he felt as if they were in a cocoon, somewhere safe only for them, not in a tent on the evening before the final battle. It was possible neither might come home. Perhaps Zuko need not worry about his future at all. He might not be there to claim it, or Sokka may not be there to be part of it.

“Zuko,” Sokka murmured, his movements were soft and gentle, building pressure slowly but brilliantly through them both. Zuko had once been called delicate. Sensitive. One of Sokka’s hands rose, his thumb wiping away moisture that remained on Zuko’s elegantly sloped cheekbones. As the pressure built, Zuko’s breaths became shorter, faster, and he came brilliantly under the cloak of Sokka’s body. “I think I love you,” the warrior murmured, body still moving until he was spent too.

In the morning light, Zuko woke first as he always did. First, he dressed, then he packed, then he left, but not before leaving one of his twin swords behind.


	9. Chapter 9

“What just happened?” Suki asked. They were huddled together in a commandeered airship. Their plan could only do so much alone; now they were stuck together, Suki, Sokka and Toph, watching as the Fire Nation’s lead airship ravaged the Earth Kingdom lands below. The firebending was like nothing Sokka had ever seen before. Ozai did not have his daughter’s signature blue flames, but his were — sickening. The power was immense, bolstered by the comet shining above.

They were too late to do anything to him alone. They could only watch the funnel demolish forests below. Then it stopped.

“I don’t know,” Sokka murmured to Suki, leaning closer to the glass.

“What do you see?” Toph demanded, her ‘sight’ locked to the confines of the airship under her feet.

“I — “ his voice broke, relief flooding him. “Aang’s back.”

“What can we do to help?” Suki asked.

“The Fire Lord is Aang's fight. We need to stay focused on stopping that fleet from burning down the Earth Kingdom. Which we can do with the Fire Lord distracted.”

Toph huffed. “And how do we do that, Captain Boomerang? _I_ can't see outside of this floating hunk of metal.”

“You don’t need to,” Sokka said with a grin. “Let’s go team.”

* * *

Caldera shined like a gem below them. A mix of fog and steam from waterbending and firebending shielded Appa as he landed safely, and together Zuko and Katara rushed into the city. It was strangely empty, most of the forces were no doubt with the fleet, and Zuko knew his way.

Zuko helped Katara over a ledge, and before them loomed the capitol’s palace. “She’ll be in there. If we take her, we take the palace.”

He knew these gardens. He had spent many hours playing in them as a small child, his mother at his side. Now he was on a mission to stop his sister and succeed the throne. Zuko’s eyes remained pointed forward, and he stumbled when Katara caught his arm.

“Stop.”

“Who do you see?” he asked quietly, eyes darting for armed guards or perhaps Azula herself.

“You can’t face her like this.”

“Like what?”

Katara’s face blanched. “Like this. This whole flight here…” The flight had been quiet. They had left early, before the others were awake. It had been easier to leave if they didn’t make a big deal out of it. That way, they could pretend as if they would all be coming back.

“What?” he asked, frowning.

“I told you before to resolve whatever was going on between you and my brother.”

“There’s nothing to resolve,” Zuko said, and though he aimed for ‘icy’ it came out ‘miserably.’

“Zuko, I don’t think that’s — ”

“No, Katara,” Zuko interrupted. “It actually… it _has_ been resolved. It’s taken care of.”

“You say that, but — ”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Katara’s expression was pinched. She shook her head at him, more sad than angry. “You need to resolve your feelings before we face her. Why are you here?”

“To end my family’s cycle of violence.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Zuko,” Katara murmured, stepping closer into his space. He wasn’t sure when this became common, he wondered why he wasn’t stepping away. Physical closeness had always made him uncomfortable, but Katara felt… well, she felt like family. Like a sister. “I’m with you, all the way. We all are, even those not with us right now.”

He knew who she was thinking of, and it hurt to think of Sokka. But her words went deeper, to all of those not here with them. Aang, who he now thought of as a friend, and Toph and Suki. His uncle, who was righting past wrongs in Ba Sing Se. And somewhere, his mother.

He took a deeper breath and Katara breathed with him. When he spoke next, it was less manic, though her unasked question went unresolved. “Come on, the plaza is this way.”

* * *

The ships began going down, explosively. The air trembled around them, full of energy and the scent of hot metal and burning coal. The boom of an airship cutting another in half was thunderous. “Suki!” Sokka shouted when he and Toph made it onto a new and stable airship. The one Suki was stranded on buckled under her feet and she looked uncertain.

It had drifted too far. She wouldn’t make the jump.

“I'm okay! Just finish the mission!” The look in her eye was pure iron, and Sokka’s stomach plummeted as Suki made a different jump. Either to a lower ship or to her death. It was impossible to see through the smoke.

“ _Sokka…_ ” Toph said. Her voice wavered, something it rarely did. Toph was crucial to their mission, her skill with metal bending allowing them to cut through the ships where they were most vulnerable. She was also terrified, he could tell. She could only see as far as the ship. Whenever they needed to move to another, she needed to trust in him. “I think we need to — ”

She was right. “Jump!” he cried out, pulling her with him as the ship trembled and bucked. They landed hard on a lower level and debris chased them down. Sokka lunged over Toph, ducking his head with a hand on his neck — not that it would shield him if he were speared by metal.

He wasn’t.

“Come on.” Toph pulled herself upright, banged one foot down and reorienting herself on the ship. “Guards are that way, let’s go this way!”

They raced away, climbing to higher levels. “I have an idea,” Sokka said. “Instead of just ripping this one up, let’s get to the rudder. If you bend it right, it’ll curve and crash into the closest ship. Maybe both of them.

There were only two others, he thought. It was hard to tell through the smoke and mayhem.

“I can do it.”

Once there, Sokka dictated which way it needed to bend and Toph put her whole being into it. The ship began to list to the side. “Have I ever mentioned how sweet it is that you invented metalbending?”

“You could stand to mention it more,” Toph said smugly.

“That’ll be the first thing I — _watch out_.” A guard rose to their level and swept an arc of hot flame towards them. He wouldn’t be able to fix the rudder. The ship would now be nearly impossible to steer with how neatly and fully they’d ruined it. But the guard could still burn them to a crisp.

Sokka grabbed Toph and jumped again with space sword in hand. He plunged the blade deep into the ship’s side, and the sword chewed through metal like butter as it slowed their descent. The curve of the ship’s hull caused the sword to come loose too soon and then they were crashing below. Sokka grunted in pain when his…

Legs shouldn’t bend that way.

“Sokka!” Toph felt for his leg, but more guards arrived.

“Toph, _duck_.” Boomerang arched beautifully through the air, driving into a guard, and sending him flying below. How many more kills had Sokka added to his count today? The next guard joined them and Sokka reached blindly for space sword with his good leg, dragging it up towards his hand. He threw it too, and it cut neatly through metal once more, piercing armor and making the guard plummet too.

“Bye-bye, space sword,” he muttered, wincing through the pain of his leg.

“You _love_ space sword,” Toph said, and her voice was small. Around them, smoke bloomed, and it would have been beautiful if it weren’t threatening to choke them. Now he was hobbled and would only hold her back. Then they would both go crashing into the earth below.

“I don’t think boomerang is coming back, Toph,” Sokka said weakly. “This might be it. If you… if you go below, there might be an escape balloon.”

Beside him, the stoic girl sniffed. “Sokka, come on, I can support you.”

“Really, Toph — go. You’re like _three_ _years old_. You’ve got so much growing up to do.” The joke always made her grin and snicker in the past. Now, it made her cry harder. Before he could try again, something jerked in his periphery. A new guard arrived, fire on his fists.

It was unwieldy, but Sokka reached his arm up and plucked the final sword from his back. He didn’t know how to use it. He wasn’t used to the balance, but the guard was nearly upon the sitting ducks. It wasn’t so hard to heave it up and over his head, where it dug deep into the approaching guard’s armor. He fell away, taking the sword with him.

“Zuko’s going to be so pissed at me for that,” Sokka laughed, nearly giddy though he was about to die. Toph laughed too, a watery noise that became a gasp when the ship shuddered once more.

“What’s that?” she yelped.

Looking up, there was at least one last surviving airship. And on it — “Suki.”

* * *

“Your family is so dramatic,” Katara whispered sharply in his ear when Zuko crashed Azula’s coronation ceremony before her crowning. The timing was good. This way, he would only succeed his father, not his exceptional sister as well.

“Wait,” Azula said, practically purring. “You _want_ to be Fire Lord?” She laughed and threw her hands out at her sides. “Fine. Let's settle this. Just you and me, brother. The showdown that was always meant to be. The last Agni Kai!”

Beside him, Katara snorted, but — Zuko could see it. The cracks were obvious.

He took a step forward, “Good. You’re on.”

Katara dashed forward too, quick on her feet. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “She's playing you. She knows she can't take us both, so she's trying to separate us.”

“I know. But I can take her this time.” Around them, the plaza cleared as Azula barked orders. Cleared for the destruction they were about to unleash upon it.

“ _Zuko_ ,” Katara hissed again. “Even you admitted to your uncle that you would need help facing Azula!”

“Yes, I know, but…” His voice trailed off. “There's something off about her; I can't explain it, but she's slipping. And this way, no one else has to get hurt.”

“ _Zuko_.”

“She’s my sister,” he said, shaking his head. The realization settled calmly in his chest. He was here to end his family’s cycle of violence. He was here for his friends — Sokka, Katara, Aang, all of them. He was here to fight for the soul of the Fire Nation, but he was also here for Azula. “Let me take care of her.”

Katara looked at him and sighed. Then she nodded. “I’m behind you. We all are.”

They took their positions across from each other on the plaza. Fire Prince to Fire Princess. Ursa had always told Zuko to take care of Azula, to watch her carefully and lead her as an older brother should. Somewhere along the line he failed her. Both his mother and his sister. He hadn’t had the strength to help his powerful sister, and here she was, twisted and shaking and unbalanced. Because she’d been left to grow with only their father to guide her.

It was his duty to take care of her.

“I'm sorry it has to end this way, brother.”

Zuko prepared his stance. It felt… easy. “No you're not.”

Azula smiled at him, her makeup smeared, and then it began. The waves of blue flame were encompassing, giant walls of flame and heat that could burn even a trained firebender up. They were mighty, pure power. For the first time though, Zuko saw firebending not only as heat and power, but as _life_. Azula’s life was in every wall of flame she created, every crash and bang she summoned.

Seeing it laid out so simply, Zuko accessed his own flames, and they rose to meet him like an old friend.

They were matched now. Her crashes met his, and his flames rose equally high. Not the hot, angry orange of his youth, but the brilliant multi-shaded flames the dragon’s taught him to see within himself. Azula was worked into nearly a full rage when the skittering blue sparks she sent along the cobbles didn’t trip him. She _was_ slipping. He should end this, instigate and antagonize her into hot anger that would make her sloppy.

“No lightning today?” he called, his limbs shifting into the redirection form. “What's the matter? Afraid I'll redirect it?”

Pure fury alighted his sisters face. “Oh, I'll show you lightning!” Her form twisted, turned crackling and alive as she summoned lightning to her fingertips. Then she twitched her pointed fingers away from him… to Katara.

He moved fast, yelling her name to warn her. But lightning was faster, and she didn’t know it was coming. The shock hit him hard, his redirection form half mangled from being suspended in the air. The lightning begged to escape, but instead it roiled through his body, through his muscles, aching now to meet his heart.

He heard Katara’s pounding footsteps, but she could not reach him with her healing water, for she was swept up in battle too.

* * *

Earthquakes, tsunamis, cyclones, and forest fires. The world above and around Wulong Forest quaked after blow and blow between the Avatar and the Fire Lord. Then — it came to an end. After a thunderstorm, the earth usually smelled rich and heavy. The only thing Sokka could smell now was dirt and soot. The last remaining ship lazily lowered towards Aang, now that it seemed he’d overtaken his adversary.

Suki was careful at the controls, and Sokka sat awkwardly in a control chair, his leg throbbing terribly under the wraps they’d tied to keep it from…

Well. It was flopping.

“What about this?” A terrible sheering noise pierced the air and both Suki and Sokka shouted complaints.

“Toph, stop peeling metal off the walls! We still need this thing to run,” Sokka chastised, wincing as he used his arms to gesture.

“Stop whining,” she chirped, her fear from the battle neatly compartmentalized away. “I rolled it up, will it work as a cane?”

“Bring it here,” he muttered, and found that it was an appropriate height to lean on.

“How are you going to tell Zuko you lost his sword?” Toph asked, needling with a smile.

“You lost his _sword?_ Bad form, Sokka,” Suki chimed in.

Maybe it was the pain, or the hurt from waking up alone that morning, but Sokka frowned, snapping, “He won’t think anything of it.”

Both girls went quiet, and Suki’s eyes remained on the sky. The last thing they needed to do was crash the ship into _Aang_.

“I thought you’d figured it out,” Toph said sullenly. “Are you going to start sulking again?”

“I never — ” That was false. He sulked and threw tantrums and was all sorts of irritating before he’d worked out his friendship, and then more, with Zuko. That felt so long ago, though it wasn’t. And it wasn’t long ago at all that Zuko had told him, a true smile on his face, that he wanted him more than he wanted his title. Why couldn’t that have lasted… longer?

“He’s going to be Fire Lord,” he said instead, quietly.

“So?” Toph asked. “The last Earth King had a lover. Not even a secret one. She made it really fashionable.”

“Zuko isn’t your lesbian Earth King,” Sokka snapped, and then felt badly when Toph’s face fell. He didn’t mean to yell at her.

“We’re coming in for a landing,” Suki said quietly. “Game faces on.” The last thing Aang needed was to be faced with this, right now.

Toph bent herself a chair out of the wall, even though there was a perfectly good chair to her left. “Are we really going to live through this just so you _can’t_ get the guy?”

* * *

Electricity _pulsed._ It felt alive as it buzzed and skated over Zuko’s cooking skin, but he couldn’t regret what he’d done. If it weren’t him here spasming, it would be Katara, and Katara could take care of Azula. Katara needed to live. Sokka wouldn’t forgive him if she were hurt. She managed to overtake his sister with sweeping arcs of water and ice, and he watched while laying twitching on the ground, his head turned to watch.

It was _sad_. It was sad what power and greed had done to their family. Done to Azula. She was _harmed_ , just like he’d been harmed, only in different ways, with different outcomes.

Azula fought her shackles and wept and raged, fire spitting from her mouth. She failed, and she would punish herself for eternity, he thought. His heart hurt to see it, it also pulsed and jumped and beat wildly.

“ _Zuko!”_ Katara said, free from battling his sister and now at his side. “Wait, let me help.”

“I have three heart beats,” he said weakly, his voice high and winded and _wrong_. There was the one beat, that was his, and then the skittering double bump. _Bump-bumpbump, bump-bumpbump_ went his heart.

Katara pressed her hand to his chest, her water already cool and calming and fighting to settle his skin. His _singed_ skin.

“Are we even? Aang and I have matching scars,” he said next, hoping to make her laugh. But she didn’t laugh because it wasn’t funny.

“Zuko, stop talking and let me work,” Katara pleaded, ignoring jibes from his hissing and spitting sister.

“No — Katara, wait.” He felt so _weak_. Or strong. He was charged, but the lightning was burning through him fast, and when his botched redirection form finally gave up, the lightning would reach his heart.

“No. Focus on breathing, Zuko.”

“Katara,” he said kindly. “If this goes bad, tell Sokka — ”

“ _Zuko!”_ she admonished, tears in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to make her cry.

“Just tell him, I love him too. I really — I really do.”

Things went odd after that, floating and sinking, and _bump-bumpbump_. There was water on his face, but he wasn’t sure if the tears were his or Katara’s. Either way, they were swept into her bending, and finally, everything went blissfully quiet.

* * *

In the Fire Nation, there was a bird. It was a little thing, a common songbird called a mouse-warbler. Zuko heard one now, the familiar trill and three note song that it caroled to the world. When he was young, he’d thought they were some of the prettiest sounding songbirds he’d ever heard. When he was older, after his mother disappeared, he found them annoying. They sang the loudest in the mornings, at the first dim light of dawn.

He didn’t remember if he heard them when he returned after Ba Sing Se, but he did now. They weren’t annoying. The song was simple, but it was nice.

Zuko swept his arms up to stretch and doing so caused shooting pain to radiate through his chest. He gasped, eyes opening in surprise to a clean, tidy, and sunlit room.

His vision was soon occupied by a mass of brown hair — Katara — as she swooped to lean over him. Her hand glowed with healing water as she dragged it up and down his chest.

“Zuko! You’re awake!”

“Where are we?” he coughed, and his voice sounded so _weak_.

“The palace. You’re in the infirmary.”

“The palace,” he repeated. “Then we…”

Katara eyed him grimly, and slowly the memories returned. Azula’s fight, how he’d met her easily and would have had her, had she not cruelly aimed at someone he cared for. Then, Katara ended what he’d started, and he was nearly murdered by his sister. He remembered, and somehow, he was still alive.

“You work wonders.”

She flushed, pleased though worry still lined her expression. “Well. Sokka would kill me if you didn’t make it.”

Zuko’s heart ached, and not only because it had recently battled off many, many of volts of electricity. With pain, he remembered his words from when he was slowly drifting. “Katara, you don’t — don’t tell him. What I said. Please?”

Katara frowned, her eyes on her hands and her healing work. “Why?”

“It’s not going to work out is all. We… we already discussed it.”

“Zuko. You nearly died. The only reason you’re still here is because you held on long enough, and because I am a very skilled healer.” Her harsh tone softened. “But you’re alive. We’re all alive. So, maybe you should — ”

“Wait,” Zuko said, interrupting. “What? There’s news?”

Katara smiled brilliantly. The tension in her shoulders relaxed. “A hawk came with news. Aang returned in time; he defeated your father. They haven’t arrived yet, but…” Katara took a deep breath. “Everyone made it.”

Everyone. Including Sokka, and Suki and Toph. Zuko didn’t realize he too was holding so much tension in his body. “And from Ba Sing Se?”

“Your uncle sends his regards.”

It was impossible not to smile back, and Zuko’s head hit his pillow as he gazed up at the ceiling. Though, he still had one question. “What did Aang do? Did he kill my father?”

Katara was careful as she took a seat on his hospital bed. Zuko noticed now that he was not in the regular infirmary. Not the one for visitors or delegates or visiting governors. It was a private room, with luxurious sheets considering the mess that could happen in such a place. “Wait,” he said, interrupting himself now, thoughts scattered. “Am I the Fire Lord?”

Katara sniffed. He imagined that while he was out cold, she’d been running the palace.

“They wanted to begin planning the coronation. I told them to wait until you were awake.” At his blank gaze, she continued on. “Your father’s alive and in chains.”

“That’s not enough. They need to — ”

“Aang took his bending. He’s no longer a threat.”

They were both silent, mulling that piece of information over. When he shifted, Katara helped him lean up and then back against a stack of pillows. They sat, shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know what comes next,” he admitted.

“They’re returning on airship.”

Katara seemed to be waiting for something, and the words were stuck in Zuko’s throat. But she waited until they dislodged, and as he opened his mouth to speak, he noted that the mouse-warbler still sang. “We ended things. If I’m to be Fire Lord, then I’ll need an heir.”

Katara looked thoughtful. “Is that really such a big deal? Your bloodline?”

“It is to the people.”

“Talk to him. I — I can’t say I understand. Our father is chief, but that doesn’t mean Sokka or I are ‘in line’ to take over the role. But talk to him. You’re… good for him,” she finished with a sigh. Zuko was too miserable to respond, but she gave him an encouraging smile. “It might not seem like it, but really. He’s been calmer. You make him calm.”

Zuko didn’t think he believed that, but Katara gave him a gentle hug and orders to rest. She called for water and light refreshments, but he’d already fallen back asleep.

* * *

“Commencing landing protocols!” a voice called down from the bridge.

“Stop fiddling with it,” Sokka snapped, slapping lightly at his father’s hand. They’d taken the Fire Lord prisoner — easy to do once Aang had removed his bending. The battle had rocked the surrounding land, heralding the Avatar’s battle far and wide, and making it clear where the Fire Princess’ airship should go. Not that it held her anymore, instead it was manned by White Lotus members, Hakoda, and friends.

“Does it hurt?” Hakoda asked, brow furrowed.

“Yeah, Sokka. Does it hurt?” Toph parroted, a grin on her face.

“ _Yes,”_ he snapped again. “It’s broken! Stop aggravating it and wait for Katara. You sent a hawk ahead, right?”

“Yes, son,” Hakoda said, holding back a laugh. “Iroh sent one ahead. It would have arrived hours ago.”

“Have we received one in return?”

“No,” Hakoda’s expression didn’t darken. He was too experienced for that. “If anything happened, we have the Fire Lord as our captive.” ‘Phoenix King’ had not taken off outside Ozai’s inner circle.

The ship rocked gently as it began to lower. “See, nothing to worry about,” Hakoda said. And he was right. If Azula still held the throne, they’d likely be under fire.

When the ramp was lowered, it was Katara who met them first, throwing her arms around Aang, and then beaming at the rest of them. “You did it!”

Another time, Sokka would take time to poke fun at Aang’s glowing red face. Instead, he winced when he accidentally put pressure on his leg. “Katara, where’s Zuko? Is he — ?”

“He’s fine,” she said, eyes narrowing at his leg. “He’s in the infirmary. Where you should be. I’ll be up soon to take a look at that.” Katara turned her head and pointed at a palace attendant. “You! Take him to the infirmary. The same room as the heir apparent.” She rolled her eyes, sighing. “Yes, the same room. I’ll treat them together.”

She ignored the looks from her family, instead quickly giving them her healer’s opinion on Zuko’s wounds. Then she fell into a new quiet, intimate conversation with the Avatar. They left for the palace gardens, and Sokka followed the attendant through the palace at a slow, limping pace. ‘The infirmary’ was large, but there was no Zuko. The attendant explained he was in a private room, through another corridor.

As was fitting, Sokka thought, for the Fire Lord-to-be. “I’ll take it from here,” he muttered, slipping into the hallway as quietly as he could. It was difficult given his leg, and he was sure Zuko heard him coming when he quietly slid open the private door.

But he had not. The prince was fast asleep.

He looked… injured. The bags under his eyes and the sallowness of his face did him no favors. Sokka shivered, thinking about what Katara had told him. That Zuko would live and recover, but that the lightning had stayed in his body for far too long. The prince’s chest was uncovered, and bandages were wrapped securely around his middle. Even with Katara’s healing, the wound would likely settle into a faded scar.

His heavy-footed steps forward didn’t rouse Zuko, but knocking his metal crutch against the bed certainly did.

“Sokka?” Zuko blearily asked, eyes clouded and tired.

“Hey.” Not the smoothest entry Sokka had ever made. Though, also probably not the worst.

“You’re okay,” the prince murmured, his eyes squinting through his exhaustion. Then they fell to his leg. “What… what happened to your leg?”

“Broke it falling off an airship.” Zuko’s eyes widened in panic. “To _another_ airship. Not to — the ground. Not a big deal.”

“Well, yes, you’d be dead if you hit the ground.”

“Nice to see you too,” Sokka whispered with a smile.

Zuko looked at him, and Sokka saw the chasm between them. Even if they couldn’t have what they wanted, they could be friends. Couldn’t they?

But Zuko shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

Sokka’s heart fell. “I can leave.”

“ _No,”_ Zuko choked out. “I can’t do _this_. Come here. Please.”

It was uncomfortable, but Sokka squeezed on the edge of the bed, yelping lightly when his leg was disturbed. It still needed professional tending. Zuko nudged himself aside with a grunt to make room. He hovered during a moment of indecision, then he settled, his head resting on Sokka’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do,” he murmured. Sokka didn’t speak, content to sit back for a moment and smell the scents of healing herbs, the hot air blowing through the window, and the oddly comforting smell of Zuko’s sweat. Outside, a funny sounding bird trilled. “I thought it might be the end and… all I could think about was you.”

Sokka nodded, his chin rubbing against the top of Zuko’s head. “All I could think was that… you would be mad at me.”

“Why?”

“I threw your broadsword at a soldier. It plummeted off the ship.”

Zuko was quiet, then he snickered. “That’s alright. I forgive you.”

Sokka breathed in deep. Technically, Zuko needed to wash his hair. Technically, Sokka never wanted to move ever again. “You left without saying goodbye.”

“…I know.”

Even content to sit here with Zuko, Sokka couldn’t help the emotion that colored his words. “You just left.”

Zuko’s head was a heavy weight on his shoulder, and he felt the deep sigh. “What would I have said? _We_ have said? I thought… I thought it best… I preferred our goodbye in the night.”

“Next time, say goodbye.”

“Next time?”

“Zuko, I…” Sokka had said ‘next time,’ as if there would be one. “I’ll follow your lead. Whatever you want to do.”

There was silence between them, and Zuko turned. The relief in his eyes had turned sullen. “It’s just — not fucking fair.” Sokka knew this was true. Knew what Zuko had wanted. To be _free_. Zuko’s eyes shut, and when they opened, they were determined, and he pressed forward, kissing Sokka gently.

The kiss lingered, and Sokka sighed into the soft feeling of Zuko’s lips. His tongue leisurely traced Zuko’s, his teeth catching and gently worrying his bottom lip. Too often, their trysts had been fast and hard and so heavy. Now they went slowly, though their breath caught all the same. It was easier for Zuko to move, sort of, so he pushed himself up, his hand on Sokka’s shoulder as he pressed harder into his mouth, breathing hard at the heat pooling between them.

“Careful,” Sokka said in the space between their mouths. “I’m not sure we’ll survive anything heavier.”

“But I _want_ you,” Zuko said quietly, hand reaching up to thread into Sokka’s hair, pulling it loose. His tongue dipped back into Sokka’s mouth, and he was willing to get even closer when a voice coughed in the room.

They sprang apart, making Sokka yelp and Zuko wince. The Dragon of the West stood calmly at the infirmary door. “I see! I will add this as an action item on our to-do list,” the man said cheerfully. “It’s good to see you looking so lively, Prince Zuko.”

Iroh strolled in, the serene smile still on his face. He placed a tray on Zuko’s side table, and on it sat a plump pot of tea and two delicate teacups. “Your coronation itinerary can wait a bit longer, I think. Rest well, my prince.”

Then he was gone, and Sokka let out the breath he was holding in his chest. “I think… I might die from embarrassment,” he muttered.

Beside him, Zuko looked mortified. His neck creaked as he faced Sokka. “’To-do list?’”

* * *

War had gripped Ba Sing Se tightly. As was usual, it targeted the weakest first, and the lower rings had been hit the hardest with shortages and dissent. Around them in the upper ring, the gardens looked the same. The fine estates looked the same. These people had feared, but below they had suffered. If Zuko did not have business or an injury that required repeated bed rest, he’d be down there where Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation volunteers supplied aid. Instead, Fire Lord Zuko sat at a low table at the Jasmine Dragon, dressed in simple clothing considering his new station.

“It’s a nice establishment,” Sokka said politely to Iroh, the Fire Regent.

“It’s coming together nicely,” said the regent. “It will do for tonight’s party. I only worry it will become the embassy by accident.”

“The embassy will go in the middle ring,” Zuko corrected. He did not look up from his stacks of parchment.

“Did you know, my boy,” Iroh said, ignoring Zuko and waxing on to Sokka, “that since I was a young boy, I wished to be a tea proprietor?”

“Is that… so?” Sokka asked.

The man winked. “It’s never too late to find your passion. Young men should remember such things.”

“Uncle,” Zuko interrupted. “Regarding the scavenged iron… The Earth Kingdom’s providence wants to claim it. Our dignitaries write to me wanting it returned. I should — ”

“What do you think, my nephew?”

“ _I think_ ,” Zuko said, voice becoming pinched, “had they not been attempting to take over the world, they wouldn’t have dropped it all over Wulong Forest. It is insane for them to request this of me, or worse, it’s deliberately combative.”

“Tell them to shove it,” Sokka said helpfully, and Zuko could not mask the snort, though he attempted to cover his face. Instead, he dragged his long sleeve through still drying ink.

“ _Damn it._ ”

“Even the Fire Lord cannot use foul language in my shop,” Iroh said primly. He retrieved a tray and readied a pot of tea. When it was ready to be strained, he brought it to the Fire Lord’s table. “Put your work away, Fire Lord Zuko. You will have plenty of time to curse dignitaries.”

He was right of course. Zuko had many years of this ahead of him, and though he loathed so many aspects of the crown, he knew there was still work to be done. Work that he could see, that he knew another would not commit to. Lower Rings and villages and cities had been wrecked by his nation, but he had traveled through them, causing his own mayhem on occasion, and on others receiving unbidden kindnesses. Yes, there was work he looked forward to doing.

For now, the Fire Lord shuffled his parchments together and slipped them into his satchel. “You don’t need to,” he said, but Sokka had already reached for the bag to set it aside. Even with a broken leg he managed to be more nimble than the still weak Zuko. At night, sometimes he felt that he could still hear more than one heartbeat. An unsteady, _bump-bumpbump_. Then he woke, and it was only that his heart was still weak. It would heal. Katara said so.

“What can we do to help?” Zuko asked, reaching to pour the tea pot before Iroh could.

“First, you could enjoy the tea,” his uncle said with a soft smile.

Zuko smiled back, took his cup up and breathed in deeply. He looked to Sokka, “What do you think?”

The other wrinkled his nose. While he drank the constant barrage of cups that came his way, picking out tea notes still bored him. “It’s dark and smoky.”

“Mmhm,” Zuko and Iroh murmured at the same time.

“Which means it’s oxidized.” This part of tea knowledge was more interesting to Sokka, but the blends and aging processes… not so much.

“It’s lapsang, isn’t it uncle?” Another sniff. “It’s a sappier blend than your other lapsang.”

“Quite,” the Dragon of the West said, his eyes bright beneath their bushy brows. “You’re becoming quite the expert, my nephew.”

“It’s only that you keep feeding me tea, uncle, and I cannot move quickly enough to evade you.” Zuko sipped and breathed out calmly afterward. Deep, rich, smoky, with just a touch of pine. It was quite good. Not leaf water at all. “The Avatar and the others will arrive later. How can we help you prepare?”

“I thought now might be a good time to go over some other aspects of our to-do list.”

The Fire Lord looked on, and then realization hit. “Oh. Uncle. We don’t — we don’t need to talk about it.”

“I can go for a _walk_ if you’d like,” Sokka said, mortification rising. They hadn’t discussed anything in deeper detail, primarily because Zuko had been summoned into meeting after meeting once he was strong enough and lucid enough to attend them. But, in the weeks that followed Ozai’s imprisonment, Sokka hadn’t left the capitol. He blamed it on his own predicament and healing needs, but Zuko often found him at his side in the gardens. The infirm leading the infirm.

They should have discussed things further after Zuko’s first breakdown in the infirmary, after Iroh found them.

“Please stay,” Uncle Iroh said to Sokka. “This concerns you too, of course.”

“Uncle,” Zuko started, steeling himself. With Sokka on crutches and Zuko still recovering, they could not outrun the old man. “There’s nothing to discuss. We — we know to be discreet.” Beside him, beneath the table, Sokka’s fingers found the back of his hand.

“And you’ll be happy?” Uncle Iroh’s voice said quietly and kindly. His eyes were shrewd.

“I…” Zuko’s voice trailed off, jumping lightly when a hand rose to rest on his back.

Beside him, Sokka gave a neutral smile. The presence of his hand was light. It could be the touch of a friend, but before his uncle it felt terribly intimate. The Fire Lord fought the blush that threatened to brush his cheeks.

“I see,” Uncle Iroh said warmly. At his side, he raised his own satchel, pulling scrolls out to place on the table. They were made with fine paper, though old, and the wooden handles were a polished red wood. Zuko recognized the insignia stamped into the wood with ink.

“Did you… Uncle did you take these from the Dragonbone Catacombs?”

“Indeed, my nephew. There was much more to read than just about your great grandfathers.”

“You — took these relics across international waters, uncle?”

Iroh smiled and winked. “Don’t tell the Fire Lord.”

“What is it then?” Zuko’s interest in history outweighed his mortification.

The old man took one scroll carefully, it appeared the oldest. “Before the Fire Nation, our lands were independent islands. Like siblings they squabbled before the Calderan king unified them. This is one of our oldest records, and one of your ancestors.” Zuko took the scroll gingerly, and Sokka leaned closer to read as well. As their eyes flew over the characters, Iroh spoke. “Never married, sired two heirs.”

“Uncle,” Zuko said. “This was a very long time ago.”

Iroh pulled out a new scroll. “Three kings later, and we have our first Fire Lord, though the islands were called the Fire Islands at the time. Like his grandfather, this ruler also never married, though he did not keep his lover secret. He did not have an heir, and the rule passed to his sister’s eldest son.”

Zuko interrupted again but was silenced by a new slew of scrolls. There were other Fire Lords in history, many he’d never heard of. Even a Fire Lady who ruled, though Zuko had never heard of a woman sitting alone on the throne before. Names and histories passed before his eyes, hidden and kept from him in the catacombs.

“And perhaps most recently, seven Fire Lords back. Never married, though sired an heir and a spare through a surrogate. She was a dignitary in her own right, and her family benefited quite well from the alliance. For Fire Lord Akio though, he received visitors with his lover by his side. They are buried in the southern garden, where their marriage ceremony took place, though you would not know it. The memorial was taken away.”

“Why?”

Iroh sighed. “History is written by those with the privilege to write it down, all we can do is keep our own records and make them known.”

“Why are you showing me this?” Zuko’s voice felt thick in his throat, and though Sokka didn’t speak, his hand remained between Zuko’s shoulder blades, a calming pressure.

“I am only saying, there is precedence, my nephew. And if you are in agreement, there are steps we can take.”

“It is clearly not in — in _fashion_ , Uncle. It will not be accepted.”

“The Fire Nation must restore its honor. It can restore its history too.”

“Even so,” Zuko argued, “it will be — scandalous. There might be a riot even, from the loyalists. I don’t know if he _wants_ that. To be on display like that. Never to have privacy again.”

Uncle Iroh spoke and Zuko did too, their voices ringing together. Sokka cleared his throat.

“Zuko, it _is_ your decision, I only mean to give you options — ”

Again, Sokka coughed.

“And I thank you, but — ”

Sokka spoke suddenly, loud and sharply. “You haven’t asked me.”

“What?” Zuko’s head swiveled to him.

“You haven’t asked me if I’d mind. If I want to try.”

“Oh,” said Zuko, face paling. He looked between his uncle and Sokka. “Isn’t it a bit early to ask if you’ll ma— ”

“I would begin with courting,” Iroh said helpfully.

“Yes of course,” Zuko said sheepishly. “Er, uh, Sokka?”

“Yeah?” The other smiled at him widely, blue eyes blue and teeth gleaming. He looked smug, and Zuko kicked him beneath the table.

“Would you like to — er, court me? Or rather, can I court you?”

“Well,” Sokka said, eyebrows waggling, “what are the perks of dating the Fire Lord?” At Zuko’s mortified look, Sokka threw his head back and laughed. His arm reached out and he caught Zuko’s wrist. “Yeah, dummy, of course.” His smile softened. “I already know what the perks are.”

**Author's Note:**

> And, here we are. I hope this is a satisfying end to this story. I believe these two will work it out, and I have some ideas how they might go about doing that. Originally the end was a bit more of a ‘proposal,’ but, I figured they should have some non-war time courting :) 
> 
> A fun note: Toph saying, “Are we really going to live through this just so you can’t get the guy?” was in the original outline I made before beginning writing. I’m glad it got to be in the chapter, because, it’s HOW I FELT. 
> 
> A huge thank you to folks out there who read along and left comments. I enjoyed reading every one, and they helped keep me writing along the way! I hope you’ll share your final thoughts. 
> 
> I hang out on [Tumblr](https://cassowaryriot.tumblr.com/) sometimes.


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